


Sink or Swim

by Pat_Ella



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-26
Updated: 2017-10-15
Packaged: 2018-12-20 02:39:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 39,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11911479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pat_Ella/pseuds/Pat_Ella
Summary: This is all I have to give - half a life and the will to live. I don't know what I am running from. Maybe I'm just running to you.





	1. Chapter 1

 

The different conversations in the small cafe all meld into one incoherent murmur, like the faint buzzing of a bee's wings as it weaves its way through the poorly designed table arrangement. The insect searches for the exit, eager to leave the crowded space and reacquaint itself with the plant box across the street. Emma had watched it hover over the peonies there before wandering into a bouquet of lilies, blissfully unaware of the fact that those flowers have gone mobile and decided to stop for lunch at the nearby restaurant. She waits for it to tentatively crawl out of the plastic now sitting on the edge of the table furthest from the door. She is, at the moment, silently rooting for it to discover a way out.

The fact that she would rather see a bee find its way to freedom than observe the many other patrons engaged in insipid chitchat says a lot about her current disposition.

Emma keeps her chin on her wrist as the bee furiously navigates the last few feet to the door. She doesn't flinch when the bee dodges a tray held aloft by a waitress and flies right into the face of a woman about to put a forkful of spaghetti in her mouth. She instead lets out a scream so loud, that everyone else either winces or whips their head around as a reflex. Emma's eyes follow the sequence of events, her chin never leaving its resting place.

The screaming woman slides her seat back, arms flapping wildly in the air in front of her. Her chair topples the coat rack sitting in the corner of the room. It sways back and forth as if deciding whether it wants to stay upright or not, followed by a second of indecision where it hilariously balances on one leg before finally crashing into the next table. The poor lady sitting there never got to finish her salad, what's left of it having ended up on the floor along with the contents of her bag.

After a series of apologies, a couple of servers scurry to clean up the mess and put everything back into place. The manager offers Salad Lady a free dish for the inconvenience but she insists on leaving instead, seemingly in a hurry. She waves off another attempt at an apology and marches out of the cafe in a fluster.

Emma hasn't moved an inch amidst the commotion save for a corner of her mouth turning up at the sight of the bee flitting through the small gap between the doors. She wasn't planning on moving anytime soon either had it not been for the inability of anyone in the vicinity of Salad Lady's table to notice the small pouch stuck between the table leg and one of the chairs. She taps her fingers against her cheek, fully intent on ignoring the purse like the rest of the world has. But she rolls her eyes, uncrosses her legs and heaves a huge sigh before dragging herself out of her seat and retrieving the bag from the floor.

She catches up to Salad Lady at the end of the block and awkwardly brushes off the display of gratitude that followed. She wraps her coat tighter around herself and shoves her hands in her pockets as she turns into one of the side streets.

"What did you do that for?" A gruff voice asks from behind her.

Emma turns around to find two men walking toward her. She recognizes them from the cafe - they had entered just after the couple with the lilies and the stowaway bee.

"What did I do _what_ for?" she replies disinterestedly, already having an idea what exactly she had done to offend them.

"That," the other guy answers, motioning with his thumb toward the street corner where Salad Lady is still waiting to cross the street. "She was supposed to go all the way to the airport before realizing she lost her passport, miss her flight and spend Christmas alone and away from her family."

"It was perfect, that bee did everything it was supposed to do. What's the matter with you?" the other guy adds, genuine confusion written all over his face.

She opens her mouth to respond but someone else beats her to it.

"I think you should be asking yourselves that question, gentlemen."

Emma shifts her head to look past the men in front of her. Her hands immediately curl into fists at the sight of Arthur and his lackeys approaching them. Arthur spares her a curious glance before narrowing his eyes at the pair of thugs who accosted her.

She pays no attention to the exchange of words that ensue, and instead scans the area for the easiest way out. She backs away slowly - she doesn't need to be a part of the altercation that will surely follow the argument, which is growing more heated by the second.

She's still a few feet away from the nearest exit when a shot rings out followed by a pained scream. Emma takes a second to register one of the guys crumpled on the ground, clutching a bleeding thigh. She curses under her breath as another one draws his own weapon and starts firing too.

She turns on her heels and takes off, cringing at the sound of another shot echoing in the alley. She should have left that damn purse on the floor.

—-

Emma doesn't even care where she's going, just turning random corners in an effort to lose whoever is chasing her. She clutches her side that's already stinging from all the running but she doesn't stop, skidding into another side street and almost falling on her face. She can still hear the footsteps behind her closing in. She knows she's slowing down and desperately wills her legs to run faster.

Suddenly, she's yanked into a narrow passage and crammed into a tiny crevice in the wall. There is no room at all to pull her arm back and throw a punch. She decides a head butt is her best option at this point but before she can even do that, a finger presses over her lips, a soft _shhh_ reverberating in the small space. Her urge to violently hit something dies immediately.

Emma tries to catch her breath, moving her head the few inches she could to take a proper look at the stranger currently invading her personal space. He's turned away from her, peering out of their hiding spot. The footsteps come closer, shuffle around for a while, then finally, finally move on. Only when the footsteps are out of earshot did her unwelcome rescuer step back, allowing her to squeeze her way out of the convenient crack in the wall.

"Are you alright?"

Emma had a plan. She was going to glare, not say anything, then walk away. Why she ended up staring, saying _uh, yeah_ , and standing unmoving, she blames on the accent that caught her completely off guard.

"I would ask why Arthur is chasing you _with a gun_ but I don't think you'd answer me anyway."

"The man is notoriously quick to draw his weapon but he's never actually killed anyone," she's surprised to find herself replying. "And you're right, I don't know you to be talking to you like this." she adds, a little harsher than she intended.

The guy awkwardly shifts on his feet and scratches the back of his head. The silence stretches between them until they both try to break it at the same time.

"You didn't- "

"I should- "

He chuckles and Emma keeps a similar rumble in her chest from escaping. She winds up making a strangled noise, grabbing her side just below her ribcage.

"You're hurt," he says, his eyebrows drawing together in concern. His hand hovers over hers. "I know a place that can help with that."

Emma hesitates. This encounter has gone on for way too long. Someone is going to get in trouble for this, it's just a matter of _when_.

"You really don't have to, I can manage. You've helped enough." she tries, but she still doesn't move and waits for his reply.

"I must insist, love. I can't just let you stumble around until you find someone else who can help. There's not a lot who can."

She frowns at the truth in his words. "You do know who I am, right? _What_ I am?" she thinks maybe he just doesn't get it yet.

But he rolls his eyes. "Yes, love. I'm not blind," he stretches his arm in front of him. "This way."

Her legs finally move, reminding her of the recent abuse she put them through when a burning sensation that starts at the soles of her feet travels quickly up along her calves. She focuses on putting one foot in front of the other, noticing how the stranger walking next to her has his hands behind his back in an effort not to assist her. She appreciates how he lets her hold onto the dignity she has left, but she doesn't say it out loud.

—-

Emma tentatively steps into the improvised clinic, which is actually a somewhat sizable house, eyebrows instantly going up at the sight of the people getting treatment. She cranes her neck to take a peek in the next room, wanting to get confirmation that this place mostly caters to a specific group of people - her people.

"This place…" she trails off when a man on crutches passes her on his way out. He gives her a small nod, the kind that says _I won't say anything if you won't._

"Through here." the stranger leads her down a wide hallway, stopping briefly to take the hand of a nervous woman waiting just outside one of the rooms. Emma watches him rub his thumb over the back of the lady's hand. She tries to listen to what he says but his voice is too low. She's mildly impressed at how the girl returns the smile he gives her, the anxiety that previously had her chewing her fingernails off already melting away.

"Killian!" someone yells from the next room.

He turns his head at the name then gently puts the woman's hand down. "I'll be right back." he says to both of them. 

Emma, already intrigued by the entire situation, follows him anyway.

"Where the hell have you been?" another man with a similar accent struggles to hold down an injured redhead, who is currently trying to drag her bleeding leg off the bed. "Please, you'll only make it worse." he pleads at her, wrapping a hand around her ankle to steady the limb.

"I got a little…sidetracked." the stranger - Killian - explains. He has his hands over the woman on the bed, but not quite touching her.

"A little help?" the other guy whispers through gritted teeth.

Killian takes a second before curling his fingers around the woman's arm, just above her elbow.

"Hey, love," he says softly. "You're okay, we're here to help you."

She stops fighting them and stares at Killian, her eyes wild with worry. "My brother…"

Emma sees the other man's grip on the girl's ankle tighten and his other hand on her shoulder shift just a little at her words. Killian notices it too - she catches his eyes dart away from the redhead's for a second.

Killian keeps his hold on her arm and brushes away the hair plastered to her forehead. "You need to worry about yourself right now. You're important too, understand?"

"…Okay." she replies before sinking back into the pillow.

As soon as she relaxes, the other guy brings his hand down to the injured leg. Emma's eyes widen slightly at the faint glow that radiates from his hand, the small hole in the flesh slowly mending itself.

Killian doesn't break eye contact with the woman, just gently caresses her forearm until the wound is completely healed. He smiles at her before taking his hand away. He locks eyes with the healer and they share a look that makes Emma feel, of all things, left out, as if they're having a silent conversation that she should be a part of.

Killian faces the door when the other man motions at Emma with his eyebrows. He appears to be a little surprised to find her standing there. He ushers her outside and straight into the room at the end of the hallway.

"How did you do that?" Emma doesn't waste time asking, the door barely closed when the first word leaves her mouth.

He tilts his head, as if curious she's asking the question. "I thought you might be more interested in what my brother can do."

_They're brothers. Huh._ "I already know some have the power to heal. Others can turn invisible. Some see the immediate future. A bunch of other stuff. But that, I've never seen that before."

He ducks his head. "Only a few chose that ability, apparently commanding emotions is not that appealing." he chuckles while staring at his shoes.

"Commanding emotions," Emma repeats. "As in…controlling _feelings_?"

Killian raises an eyebrow at her.

Emma realizes then she just rephrased what he said. "You're given only one ability and you chose that? Over everything else? Over _controlling time_?" she doesn't see the appeal either.

"They don't control time, they just slow it down for a few moments." he clarifies, because that is the part that needs further explanation.

Emma lowers herself to sit on the bed in the middle of the room. "Right, my mistake."

He doesn't say anything in reply so she decides to press on.

"Do those people out there even know they're feeling someone else's emotions, not their own?" she's not sure why she's asking these questions. She tells herself it's because this new ability interests her, not the person who has it. "What happens then when you let go? Do those feelings go away too?"

Killian is quick to correct her. "I don't supply them, I _control_ them. They already feel it, it just happens that something else drowned it out, something stronger. I only help those neglected emotions fight back - but they decide if they want to hold onto it."

It's Emma's turn to be quiet.

"I help people feel less scared, endure less pain. It proves to be useful in certain situations." Killian continues to justify his choice of powers.

"Can you also make them feel _more_ scared and suffer through _more_ pain?" she looks at him expectantly.

Killian blinks at her. "No."

Emma would have laughed if there wasn't a throbbing in her side trying to steal her consciousness away. "I have this ability too, you know," Emma narrows her eyes at him. "I can tell if someone's lying."

He takes a while to change his response. "I could if I wanted to."

"Then you're right, it can be useful." she feels good about winning that argument.

Her smug smile melts off quickly at the look on his face. It's clear she's crossed a line at some point so she tries to diffuse the tension in the air.

"Shouldn't you go back in there? I get the feeling that woman is about to hear some bad news courtesy of someone who, I'm only guessing, doesn't have a very good bedside manner." she says, shifting a little in her seat to relieve some of the discomfort in her left side. 

Killian shakes his head. "The pain of losing her brother, it's the last thing she'll ever have of him and I'm not going to take that from her," he replies, averting his gaze. "I'll get someone to tend to that, stay here." he adds, gesturing at her hand still clutching her side.

Emma watches him leave the room, already very much intrigued after having only met the man less than a half hour ago. He returns a few minutes later with a different guy.

"Alright, what am I dealing with here?" he says, sitting next to Emma without preamble.

"Do you have to have an accent to work here?" Emma glances at Killian, only somewhat joking.

Killian laughs softly and sits on the chair beside the bed. "This is Robin, he's a healer too."

"Did you want me to take a look at this or were you planning to just hold onto it until it goes away?" Robin comments, eyeing Emma with what she can only describe as suspicion.

"I can go somewhere else you know." she retorts.

Robin crosses his arms over his chest. "I think we both know that's not true."

Emma doesn't move her hand for a few more seconds as a show of defiance. Then she lets Robin examine the wound anyway.

"Right, it's just a graze. Shouldn't take too long." Robin declares, moving his hand over Emma's side.

Emma feels the warmth from his palm and the tingling sensation as her skin fuses back together. She instantly feels better and has half a mind to thank Robin for his efforts. She doesn't - it doesn’t look like he is expecting gratitude anyway. He casts Emma another wary glance, gets on his feet, and pats Killian on the back. Killian throws a quick thank you over his shoulder as Robin leaves the room.

Emma can sense Killian waiting for her to stand up. She leans forward instead. "How did you end up here, doing this?"

He certainly did not expect that question with the way he pauses before answering. "Liam," he shrugs then clarifies at Emma's raised eyebrows. "My brother, Liam. He started this place and people kept coming."

Emma frowns. "But these are _my_ people. Why are you helping us?"

Killian looks at her as if the answer is right in front of her face. "His abilities only work on injuries inflicted by our weapons anyway. And our weapons only work on…well." he motions at Emma's newly-healed almost-gunshot wound.

"Oh." Okay, maybe it _is_ that obvious.

"We were led to believe we were supposed to be on opposite sides. But after a while it just doesn't make sense anymore," he stands. "When people get hurt, it doesn't matter which side you're on. It shouldn't."

Emma looks up at him in fascination. She hasn't heard anyone talk like that, not in all the years she's spent on the ground.

"Will you not get into trouble for all of this?" She says, motioning to the rest of the room. "I personally know of some of your people who would flip out at the sight of your patients."

"My brother is just doing what he thinks is right. Why would his ability be changed to only work on a specific kind of injury if they expected them not to use it anyway."

Emma just stares at him in reply. She can't quite wrap her head around the idea of someone - let alone someone from the other side - having this kind of philosophy.

He breaks the hush that falls between them. "Well, you're good as new now. No reason for you stay." his lips turn up into a genuine smile. He's giving her an excuse to leave, an out.

Emma puts her hands on her knees then rises to her feet. "Yeah, no need to stick around."

Killian escorts her all the way to the front door where he shoves his hands in his pockets and rocks on his heels. "I really do hope to never see you again." he says with a smirk.

Emma rolls her eyes at him and turns around. She feels her stomach sink the more distance she puts between herself and the clinic. She figures it must be a side effect of the unusual healing she just experienced.

—-

Emma turns the key to her apartment to find it already unlocked. She tilts her head back and exhales loudly. She can already hear them from the other side of the door. A very stern _David!_ being her cue to finally twist the doorknob in her hand.

"Hello people who don't live here." she greets them with sarcasm, throwing David a glare as he stands in front of Emma's open refrigerator. 

"I'm starving." he says defensively before returning to rummaging through what little food Emma keeps in her place.

"Because my apartment is the only place in town where you can get something to eat?" Emma throws her keys on the table and shrugs out of her coat.

"That's free? Absolutely." he says then he sniffs one of the containers. He makes a face and puts it back on the shelf.

"Is that blood?" Mary Margaret takes three strides across the kitchen to examine the dried blood on Emma's shirt.

Emma looks down on her stained clothes. She's completely forgotten about what happened in the street earlier - most of it anyway. She's thought about something (someone) else entirely on her way home.

"What happened?" Regina puts her beer - Emma's beer - down on the table.

"Oh, it's nothing. I'm fine." Emma bats Mary Margaret's hands away and elbows David from the fridge. She hangs her head to find that her last bottle of beer is sitting half empty on the kitchen table.

"So it's not your blood?" David asks while he pulls a fork from the unwashed pile in the sink and sticks it in the cold Chinese takeout in his hand.

"It's mine," Emma answers, snagging the beer bottle from the table and taking a long pull. "It's sort of a long story." she adds when her uninvited guests look at her expectantly.

"Give us the cliffs notes version then." Regina insists, crossing her arms over her chest.

Emma drops into one of the chairs around the table. "I returned someone's purse and almost got shot for my trouble."

No one talks for a few long seconds. She's sure she can hear crickets chirping somewhere.

"What were you doing giving someone their shit back?" David finally says through a mouthful of pot stickers.

"What David means is, who shot you? And are you okay?" Mary Margaret interrupts, _Ignore him_ being the glaringly obvious message underneath. She takes the seat beside Emma.

"Shot _at_ me," Emma clarifies. "And it doesn't matter. I didn't actually get shot, I barely got nicked."

"Still, if you got hurt enough to bleed, you should have it checked out." Mary Margaret tries to reach over to Emma's side again.

Emma shifts in her seat to keep the prying hands away. "I already did, and like I said, it's fine."

Regina eyes her suspiciously. "There's something you're not telling us."

"Guys, it was practically a scratch, what do you want from me?" Emma is finding it harder and harder to keep the exasperation from her voice.

"Just let Mary Margaret tend to it, you know how she likes to play doctor." David puts another pot sticker in his mouth, purposefully ignoring the death glare Mary Margaret is giving him.

Emma tries again to get them to leave it alone. "She doesn't have to- "

Mary Margaret actually gets up from her seat this time. "But you're bleeding- "

Emma slams the beer bottle on the table and stands up so fast that her chair topples to the floor. "I'm not anymore, alright. Someone already took care of it, Jesus."

_"Someone,"_ Regina says slowly. Emma can almost see her connecting the dots in her head. "The only reason you'd be this vague and defensive about it is if…someone _healed_ you."

Mary Margaret immediately dismisses the idea. "That's ridiculous, no one will do that for her. Because the only people who can even do that…" she trails off at the guilty look on Emma's face.

David actually puts his carton of food down.

"It just sort of…" Emma waves her hands in the air as she searches for the right word. "…happened." she frowns at what her brain finally came up with.

"Emma- " Mary Margaret starts.

"I know, I know," Emma begins pacing. "It was stupid. I shouldn't've let it happen."

David goes around the table to put Emma's chair back. "We just don't want to go stirring up trouble - the last thing we need is that kind of attention."

_"I know."_ Emma repeats with sincerity in her tone because she _does_ know. She knows what's at stake. She knows what a horrible decision it was to let that stranger - Killian - fool her into coming to that place.

She turns around to face her friends, the only people who have stuck with her even after all the shit she put them through. She decides at that moment to never go back to the clinic, to never see Killian again, to never even think about him.

—-

Emma lasted about two hours, which is two hours longer than she expected.

She lays awake on her bed, staring at the paint peeling off the corner of the wall where it meets the ceiling.

She's never met anyone who has piqued her interest as much as Killian did. She finds herself wondering where he came from and why he has that accent. She's pretty sure there's more to learn about his ability and why he chose it in the first place. She's also curious about his brother, Liam, and what they do in that clinic.

But more than anything, she's convinced he's just as weary as she is of this world, that life like this has broken him in the same way it has done to her. That it has dulled the blues of his eyes, just a little bit. She sees the same look in the mirror most days. 

And isn't it just so _human_ of her to cling to someone who can share in her misery.

Which is why Emma finds herself standing across the street from the clinic the very next morning, internally debating whether she should cross the cracked asphalt, or turn her ass around and head back to the city.

She is just about to step off the curb when Killian barges out the door, wrapping his arms around himself to contain his shivering. He walks down the path and out to the street, keeping his head down. He moves slowly despite the biting cold of the air, like he's letting the harsh breeze beat at him and seep into his skin. Emma follows him from the other side of the road, the sight of him chasing away whatever courage she was able to scramble together just a few minutes ago.

Killian walks a good distance, never really heading toward anywhere. He's kept his hands in his coat pockets the entire time, not even bothering to tame the hair the relentless wind already whipped into disarray five blocks ago. Then he slows down, comes to a stop at a street corner, and takes a deep breath. He watches his own breath disappear in the air before turning back the way he came.

Emma's eyebrows furrow but she keeps him in her sights, her lips already starting to feel numb. Killian ducks into a coffee shop they passed a while ago, prompting her to finally cross the street and get out of the cold herself. She goes through the door and quickly moves to the corner of the shop, keeping her back to the line of customers at the register. She plops herself down in one of the empty chairs and rubs her hands together to get some feeling back in her fingers.

"This should help." a cup lands on her table, steam billowing happily from the coffee inside.

Emma looks up to find Killian smiling at her, his own cup in his hand.

"I wasn't stalking you." are the first words out of Emma's mouth and if he isn't standing right in front of her, she would have followed it up by hitting her forehead against the table.

"No, you just happened to have been going in the same aimless direction for the last twenty minutes, right?" he still has that stupid grin on his face that makes Emma's tongue work faster than her brain.

"You ran your fingers through your hair."

That's definitely something he didn't expect because really, that's as off tangent as anyone can be. His eyebrows draw together while he searches for an appropriate response and Emma is sure there isn't one so she saves him from having to make something up.

"Thanks," she blurts out, wrapping both hands around the heat radiating from the cup. "I'm sorry for being weird and creepy." she adds before taking a small sip.

Killian chuckles, the sound doing more to warm Emma's insides than the scalding liquid that just burned off half her tongue.

"Something happened?" Emma outright asks when it looked like he was about to take his leave.

He hesitates, scratching the rim of the paper cup with his thumb. He shifts on his feet and licks his lips. "We lost someone today at the clinic." he swallows thickly.

"I'm sorry." Emma fights the urge to reach out and hold his hand.

Killian nods in acknowledgement but doesn't say anything further. He stares at the seam of his cup, his fingers trying to pull it open.

Emma suddenly stands up, startling him from his reverie. "I'd like you to meet someone."

He raises an eyebrow at her in reply.

"It's nothing weird or creepy, I promise."

"It is when we don't even know each other's names," he reaches his hand out. "Killian Jones."

It hadn't even occurred to Emma that they skipped over introductions the first time they met. She realizes now that she only learned his name because his brother had yelled it out loud.

She looks at his extended hand, not sure what to expect when their palms touch. She wills her frozen fingers to curl around his and is surprised by the fact that she feels, well, nothing. Clearly there's more to understand about how his ability works.

She locks eyes with him. "Emma Swan."

—-

They walk in silence, each nursing their own cup of coffee. Emma leads Killian a few blocks down the road, toward a well-kept manor where an old lady is sweeping the front yard. She catches him pause briefly at the sign _Madame Lucas' Orphanage_ just outside the iron gates.

"Hi Granny." Emma greets the elderly woman, who immediately spreads her arms open.

"Emma," she says her name with all the fondness of a grandmother to a grandchild. "I haven't seen you in a while." she wraps Emma in a tight hug.

"I know, I should visit here more often," Emma returns the embrace in earnest then motions Killian over. "This is Killian."

"Pleasure to meet you." he says politely as he shakes the woman's hand. His eyes dart over to Emma at the look on Granny's face.

"I usually come here alone." Emma explains quickly.

"She _always_ comes here alone." Granny corrects, still eyeing Killian until he clears his throat uncomfortably.

"Anyway, is Henry upstairs?" Emma steals Granny's attention away, almost having to wave her hand in front of the low-nestled spectacles on her face.

"Yes, yes, he's in his room. He'll be thrilled you're here." Granny beams at them before ushering them up the steps to the front door.

Emma climbs the stairs to the upper floor, Killian right behind her. She goes down the familiar hallway and knocks on the door. She looks back at Killian to find a look of what Emma thinks is curiosity on his face.

She cracks the door open and peeks inside. "Hey kid."

"Emma!" footsteps resonate as a little boy runs, throws the door wide open, and wraps his arms around Emma's waist. He notices Killian standing awkwardly outside his room. "Who are you?" he asks with all the grace of an eleven-year-old.

Emma tousles the hair on top of the young man's head. "Henry, this is my friend Killian." 

"Your friend?" Henry's eyebrows disappear into his hair.

"Yes, Henry." _I have friends_ , she continues in her head, somewhat insulted by Henry's tone.

"This is awesome!" the excitement in Henry's voice worries Emma a little. She doesn't want him getting the wrong idea. Killian is also looking at her now, obviously fighting a grin from forming on his face.

"Just what do you mean by that, kid?" Emma asks nervously, already formulating an explanation to whatever Henry is about to say.

"It's the first time you've ever introduced me to another Angel."

Okay. She doesn't have an answer for _that_.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is all I have to give - half a life and the will to live. I don't know what I am running from. Maybe I'm just running to you.
> 
> \- "Sink or Swim" by Jason Wade


	2. Chapter 2

The beginnings of a hysterical laughter starts bubbling in Emma's chest. She realizes how inappropriate a reaction it would be a second before it escapes her throat and she is able to disguise it as a strangled cough.

"I mean, you are one, right?" Henry takes a few eager steps toward Killian and Emma is impressed at how Killian doesn't back away. "You _are_ an Angel?"

"Uh…" Killian blinks at Henry's wide eyes.

Emma puts a hand on Henry's shoulder to keep him from actually stepping on Killian's toes. "Why don't we all come in for a sec." she steers Henry back to his bed and motions for Killian to come inside the room.

Killian doesn't move at first - she can see the _Are you serious?_ look on his face. Emma jerks her head and urges with her eyes for him to _Come inside_. He finally crosses the threshold and stands by the door, leaving just enough room for him to swing it closed.

"Okay, Henry, what did we say about all that…stuff?" Emma sits Henry on the bed and kneels in front of him to block his view of Killian.

Henry finally looks at her when he answers. "To not talk about it with other people."

"Not even with Granny, remember?" she brushes away the hair that has fallen over his eyes.

"Not even with another Angel?" Henry challenges.

"Henry- " Emma exhales loudly. This is not what she had in mind when she brought Killian here. "Where did you even get the idea that he might be one?"

"You said he's your friend." Henry replies matter-of-factly, tilting his head like he's not sure why Emma's not getting it.

"That doesn't make him an," she lowers her voice. "Angel."

"You also said I'm your only human friend. Well, maybe Granny too." Henry adds the last part as an afterthought.

"Yeah, so?"

"So any other friend is an Angel. Right?" Henry cranes his neck to look past Emma.

Emma hangs her head in defeat - the kid can be too smart for his own good sometimes. She glances at Killian over her shoulder. She'll let him play this however he wants. She eyes him carefully as he crosses the room and crouches beside her. She doesn't really know why but she holds her breath.

"Emma's been talking to you about us, I see." he says with a gentle smile. He turns his head to face her and she exhales all the air out of her lungs.

Henry's grin takes up half of his face. "So I'm right, you are one!" he leans forward in his seat, almost completely sliding off the bed. "What kind are you? Are you like Emma?"

"Henry," Emma fields the question immediately. "That's not something you just ask." 

"Why not? It's not like _I_ can tell." 

Emma looks at Killian apologetically. "You don't have to answer that." she whispers.

Killian holds his hand up and shakes his head. "It's fine," he takes another second to follow up with, "No, I'm not like Emma."

"So you're from the other side." Henry doesn't ask, just says it out loud with a little awe in his voice.

"Well," Killian folds his legs to sit on the floor. "What exactly has Emma told you about these _sides_ you speak of?"

Henry's face lights up and his back straightens as he prepares to recount the History of Angels (According to Emma.) Emma's lips curl up to a smile before pulling the desk chair closer and taking a seat. She sees Killian rest his elbows on his knees as he listens attentively.

"Once upon a time, all the Angels lived together in Heaven. Everything was pretty peaceful until a group of Angels decided that Heaven was too strict with their rules and demanded more freedom."

Killian looks at Emma at that. It doesn't distract Henry from his storytelling.

"When Heaven refused to make nice, those Angels descended to Earth instead where they believed they will feel less controlled. These Shadow Walkers now live among the humans, enjoying the freedom they've always wanted."

"Shadow Walkers?" Killian couldn't help but interrupt, the curious interest evident in his tone.

"I named them. _Dark Angels_ is too boring." Henry answers simply.

Killian laughs softly. "Go on."

"Heaven couldn't just let them roam the Earth but also did not want them to come back so they sent down another group of Angels - I call them The Guardians - to watch over the Shadow Walkers and make sure they don't do anything that can harm Creation. All this time they've co-existed with mankind and we had no idea. We can't even tell if the lady that finds us lost in the park is one of them," Henry looks pointedly at Emma. "Well, not until she actually says it."

Emma feels Killian's eyes on her as well and she fights the blush that's crawling up her neck.

"But Emma says you guys can tell because only The Guardians have halos and only the Shadow Walkers have wings. The Guardians had to give up their wings when they volunteered to come down and the Shadow Walkers lost their halos when they decided to leave Heaven." Henry looks expectantly at Killian for him to confirm.

"That's true, yes." Killian replies.

"Then shouldn't I at least be seeing people floating in the air?" Henry points outside his window.

"It's like the halos and the wings. There are some things we can't let the humans see - it's too much." Killian tries to explain.

"So they do fly, I just can't see it?"

"Not a lot of them do anymore, kid. Too much time spent with people who walk to where they want to go." Emma cuts in on the exchange.

"But if I had wings, I would use it all the time. Fly _everywhere_." Henry puts emphasis on the last word.

Emma raises an eyebrow at Killian. _Your turn_.

"It could be they don't like using it," Killian only looks at Henry when he speaks. "That it only reminds them of that place they wanted to leave behind in the first place."

Emma lets her gaze settle on Killian's profile. He doesn't turn his head to face her.

"Or," Emma pries her eyes away. "It's all these buildings. Not a lot of room to stretch someone's wings."

Henry snickers at that. "I still think it's a little unfair to expect someone without wings to babysit someone who has."

"That's not all they do. They - The Guardians - actually have a more important mission." Killian lowers his voice, like he's about to tell a secret.

Emma opens her mouth in protest - this is something Henry, a child, doesn't need to know. Killian gives her a _don't worry_ look though, so she presses her lips back together.

"What is it?" Henry whispers back urgently at the cliffhanger.

"They guard the Gates of Heaven. Make sure no one opens them again from here." Killian says it like it's the most guarded secret in the world.

Henry looks from Killian to Emma then back. "Why, what happens if the Gates open?"

"Let's just say the last time someone tried, the dinosaurs went extinct," Emma tries to prevent any further exploration into this specific subject. "And it took a long time to put things back the way they were. Except for these guys." she takes one of Henry's dinosaur figures from his desk and throws it at him. 

Henry catches it with both hands. "Woah," he breathes. "Does that mean you can't go back? Ever?"

Just then, someone knocks on the door followed by Granny poking her head in. "It's time for lunch." she announces.

"Five more minutes." Henry pleads, actually putting his hands together.

Granny throws him a look that makes all of them, even the ones that do not live in that house, scramble to their feet. She nods once and disappears, leaving the door open.

Henry drags his feet to the hallway, the tiny T-Rex still in his hand. Emma follows him outside with Killian right behind her.

"Are you staying?" Henry looks up at Killian when he asks.

Killian glances at Emma then, unsure of what to say.

"We should get going, kid," she says, running a hand through his hair. "We'll come by another time."

"Okay." Henry sighs, looking down at his shoes before descending the stairs slowly.

Emma and Killian come down the steps as well, stopping briefly at the doorway to bid Granny farewell. Emma is already halfway down the porch steps when a loud _Wait!_ echoes from the other side of the house.

Henry comes running toward them, skidding to a stop right in front of Killian. "Here." he hands him his dinosaur figure.

Clearly taken aback, Killian stands frozen in his spot. Henry's arm hanging in the space between them. Emma clears her throat and nudges Killian forward.

"Henry…" Killian puts his hands up in front of him.

"Take it," Henry grabs Killian's hand and puts the dinosaur in his palm.

Emma sees Killian's shoulders stiffen then slowly relax, the ghost of a smile playing on his lips. He closes his fist around the T-Rex, the tip of its tail sticking out.

"You can give it back the next time you visit." Henry looks proud of himself, like he knows he's tricked them into coming back. Not that he needed to do it at all.

"I will, Henry." Killian promises, putting his hand carefully in his coat pocket.

"We'll see you soon, kid." Emma gives Henry a small wave and beckons for Killian to follow her down the path.

The smile remains on Killian's face all the way back and that's when Emma's certain that introducing him to Henry is exactly what he needed.

—-

"He's a good lad, Henry." Killian says when they arrive at the clinic. They stand just outside the entrance, the weather already a little less harsh compared to this morning.

"Yeah, he is." Emma tucks a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

Emma can see Killian mulling something over. He's chewing on his bottom lip and she needs him to stop doing that immediately.

"I met him a little over a year ago, sitting alone in a park bench," Emma starts. Killian's eyes snap up to hers, like he's not sure if he actually asked the question out loud. "I had only wanted to sit with him, made sure someone found him. But he asked me if I was his guardian angel and I told him I wasn't…and then explained just what kind of Angel I am."

"You needed someone to listen. Someone who knows nothing about you and can't judge you for anything you say."

Emma blinks at him. "Exactly."

"I understand how that's Henry for you. He's a smart boy." he smiles fondly again, his dimples momentarily stealing her attention.

"A little too smart for his age if you ask me." she replies, forcing her eyes upward to meet his.

He laughs at her comment and she feels an inexplicable sense of pride at how she managed to draw it out of him.

"Well, I had better get back inside," he pulls his hand from his pocket - the one he hasn't moved since he slid Henry's toy in there - and puts it on the door. "Should I keep an eye out for your red jacket in the crowd behind me?"

Emma rolls her eyes as Killian's smile turns into a grin. "Very funny." she doesn't deny it this time. She _was_ stalking him after all.

"Thank you for today, Emma." his voice is full of sincerity.

She feels something shift in her chest when he says her name. She manages a quick _Sure_ before she loses all her words.

He gives her another soft smile before he pushes the door open and disappears inside.

—-

"Earth to Emma." David knocks his boots against Emma's, which are both propped up on her coffee table.

"Sorry, what?" Emma pulls herself from her daydream with great difficulty.

"What's up with you? You've been acting weird recently," Mary Margaret puts a hand on her arm. "You're not in any kind of trouble are you?"

Emma's pretty sure she's in _some_ kind of trouble. "No, I'm not. I'm just…thinking…about things."

They all look at her uncertainly making Emma squirm uncomfortably in her seat.

"Anyway," Regina changes the subject much to Emma's relief. "I was just saying how we need to be a lot more careful out there. Things have definitely escalated over the past few months. If it gets any worse, we should be arming ourselves too."

"Is that really necessary?" Mary Margaret asks, her words laced with worry.

"It's just for our own protection, Mary Margaret." David assures her, squeezing her hand tight.

"This happens every few decades though, doesn't it?" Emma chimes in, finally tuning in to the conversation at hand. "Some of us get restless and wreak havoc but things always eventually settle down."

"True but it's more serious this time around." Regina says, leaning forward in her seat. "We're killing each other. Angels are _dying_."

Emma remembers the last time she saw Killian, how upset he was with a patient's death that he had to walk it off for something close to twenty blocks. An Angel dying is not something that happens often - at least not until recently.

"And that on top of everything else we're already dealing with, it's just…" Mary Margaret trails off, her shoulders drooping.

Emma feels the familiar pang of guilt that creeps up on her every now and then. She stands up and strides to the kitchen, suddenly feeling the need to distance herself from the group. She pulls at the refrigerator door too hard, the bottles clinking loud enough for Mary Margaret to turn her head.

"You know what I mean, Emma." Mary Margaret offers as a form of non-apology.

Emma swipes a beer bottle from the fridge and uncaps it. "No, I know," she mutters before taking a long drink. "I'm gonna go get some rest, see you guys tomorrow."

She avoids eye contact when she walks past them, just heads straight for her bedroom. She leans against the door while she listens to her friends clean up and leave, sighing deeply when her front door finally clicks closed. She places the mostly full bottle on the nightstand and drops heavily on the bed, sinking her head in the pillows.

She was needlessly rude out there, she's aware of that. But she also doesn't need a reminder that she's the reason they've always had to live in constant dread, always having to look over their shoulders, always having to be ready to pack up their lives and move at a moment's notice. Not when she already falls asleep every night with that thought in her head.

Emma lets out an angry groan. This kind of living has already taken too much from her and her friends. She likes to think she's moved on, that she's already steered her life away from the past. But she's been drifting ever since, _going in the same aimless direction_ , she hears Killian's voice in her head.

She moves to her side, her lips turning up to a small smile when she hears it again. _I can't just let you stumble around until you find someone else who can help._

She starts to believe he might be right - she doesn't need to find someone else. 

—-

Emma taps her fingers impatiently on the table by the entrance. She needs to channel the restless energy somehow and this is infinitely better than her feet stomping the rest of her body right out the door. She cranes her neck in the direction of the hallway again but still no familiar face in sight. Her left leg twitches, all of her anxiety pooling in that one limb in an effort to drag her out of there. She glares at it, very nearly _scolds_ it to stay put. She clamps it down with one hand just above her knee, the other still drumming a random pattern on the wooden surface.

"Emma?"

Her head snaps up so fast she almost gives herself whiplash. Killian is making his way toward her and she has roughly three seconds to get herself together and do what she came here to do. She straightens her back and opens her mouth, all the thoughts currently racing in her head coming out as one simple word. "Hi."

"What are you doing here? Is someone hurt? Are you?" he looks down at the leg Emma was just gripping hard a second ago.

"No, no. No one's hurt. Everyone's fine. I mean, clearly some people are _not_ fine," she motions to the people getting tended to in the room behind him. "I mean, _I'm_ fine." she fails to hide the fluster in her voice.

"…You're sure?" Killian replies uncertainly.

"Yes, listen," Emma blows past the uncomfortable part of the conversation. "Do you want to get out of here?"

And she just made it even more awkward.

"Wh…at?" Killian manages to choke out.

Emma squeezes her eyes shut. She had a script in her head, she really did, but he caught her off guard and now the words are all over the place. She takes a breath before looking at him directly. " _I mean_ , do you maybe want to go get some coffee?" she says slowly in fear the words would come out wrong again. "With me?" she adds, in case it isn't clear.

Killian's face scrunches in momentary confusion then slowly breaks into a smile. "I'd like that very much," he scratches the back of his head. "I have some time now, if you- "

"Sure." Emma answers quickly.

Killian chuckles softly. "I'll go get my coat. I'll be right back." he takes a couple of steps backward before spinning on his heels and going back down the hallway.

Emma makes sure he's far enough away before doubling over in both relief and excitement. It was nowhere near how she imagined it would happen in her head but it's still better than just, well, imagining it. She leans against the table while she waits for him, quietly observing the organized bustle of the clinic.

"Can I help you?"

Emma whips around to find another familiar face - Killian's brother, Liam, if she remembers correctly.

"Uh," she hesitates to answer, not entirely sure if she should make something up or tell him the real reason she's here. "Just waiting for someone."

She pushes off the table just in time to see Killian coming out of the hallway, putting his leather jacket on. He pauses for a brief second at the sight of his brother then walks up to them.

"You ready?" Killian asks her, ignoring Liam altogether.

"Right, yeah." Emma mutters at the same time Liam says, "Ready for what?"

Killian clenches his jaw before facing his brother. He doesn't say anything, just gives him a strange look. Emma watches Liam's face change slowly, like he's just realized something. Then he looks at her, then at Killian, then back at her. Liam's face changes again and Killian bristles at his expression almost immediately. Emma begins to wonder if they're having some sort of telepathic argument.

Liam opens his mouth to say something when the doors burst open, a petite woman almost dragging a man twice her size into the clinic. Emma can see the trail of blood behind them.

"Help him, please!" the woman yells, struggling to keep them both upright. 

Both Liam and Killian move instantly toward the pair. Liam takes one of the injured man's arms and puts it around his own shoulders, taking most of his weight. Emma blinks the initial shock away and gives them a hand, pulling the woman away slowly to give the brothers some room to maneuver. But the woman shrugs Emma's hands off and lunges toward Killian, grabbing his hand with both of hers. Emma hears him inhale sharply, a look of distress flickering across his face.

"Please don't let him die." the woman begs, her voice breaking at the last word.

Killian puts his other hand on top of hers. "No one's dying today, love." he says softly.

The woman's sobs grow less hysterical until she calms down enough for Killian to extract his fingers from her death grip. He glances at Emma and she nods in understanding, steering the woman toward the row of chairs at the other side. She looks over her shoulder to see Killian shake his head like he's getting over a dizzy spell before catching up to Liam and taking the man's other arm to help Liam carry him inside.

—-

Emma planned to be sitting in a coffee shop, warm beverage in hand and engaged in some deep conversation with the most compelling person she's encountered in a long, long time. Instead she's sitting in the hallway, offering words of encouragement to an increasingly anxious woman, no coffee - and no Killian - in sight.

A few other injured came through the doors shortly after their aborted coffee date that Emma hasn't glimpsed again any of the three people she knows in this place. That was about an hour ago.

"I told him not to get in the middle of it. _I told him_." the woman says for about the twentieth time since they took their seats. She alternates between livid and distraught each time, but the tears are always there. Emma thinks she's close to crying herself.

She's not even sure why she stayed. She should have just left when Killian gave her that apologetic look and went back to work. Then he'll call - or maybe she will - and they can try again. But with every minute that goes by, she looks down the hallway in the hopes of seeing that leather jacket again. Until she's crossed the one-hour mark and at that point, she's already invested too much of her time to not get something in return.

Emma glances lazily to her left, not really expecting to see him walking toward them. Both she and the woman next to her sit up in attention, but for vastly different reasons.

"So sorry it took so long, love," he says when he's within earshot. "He's asking for you."

Killian leads them into one of the larger rooms and down the row of beds, the woman running off ahead of them once she catches sight of the man she dragged in. He opens his arms and she jumps right into his embrace, holding him tight. 

Emma gazes at Killian's profile and her face softens at the look of fulfillment in his eyes as he watches them hold each other, the tired smile doing nothing to dull it. He shifts his eyes and finds her staring, making her blink and look away too fast. She could kick herself for that.

"He's got some injuries I can't exactly heal but he'll be fine." Liam - who has apparently been standing there the entire time - tells them.

A teary thank you and an uncomfortable hug for Liam later, the three of them move out to the hallway. Strangely enough, Emma finds herself in the exact same situation before the surge of wounded Angels - standing awkwardly between Killian and Liam, who are, once again, in the middle of a silent conversation.

"I'm Emma by the way." she announces when the tension gets to be too much for her.

They both look at her as if only just realizing her presence.

"Right, yes. Liam, this is Emma Swan. Emma, my brother Liam." Killian rushes through the introductions like he wants to usher her away already.

She shakes Liam's hand anyway. "Hi."

"Hello." Liam replies in such an unimpressed manner that Emma immediately feels the need to prove wrong whatever it is he's assumed about her.

"You have more people to see." Killian almost steps between them as soon as they dropped the handshake.

Liam raises an eyebrow at his brother then turns around and disappears into another hallway.

"Yeah. He doesn't like me." Emma doesn't even disguise it as a question.

"He's like that with everyone, don't take it personally." Killian dismisses Emma's observation and starts walking in the opposite direction. 

Emma doubts Liam treats _everyone_ like that - maybe some people, a very specific type of person in fact. She follows him down the corridor anyway.

"Hey, we can take a raincheck if you're too busy here. I'll come by some other time," she suggests as they round a corner. "That lady said there was some sort of brawl so there might be more people coming."

She almost runs into Killian when he stops in the middle of the hallway. He looks at her inquisitively.

"If you wanted to leave, you could have done so an hour ago," he raises an eyebrow like he knows something she doesn't. "But you're still here."

Emma stares at him in reply. Then she puts her hands on her hips and takes a deep breath. "How can I help?"

That's how she ends up spending the rest of the afternoon learning the layout of the place, directing traffic in the maze of corridors and somehow pointing people to where they need to be. She also assists in delivering updates to worried companions and offering consolation to the truly distressed ones. They are, as expected, more receptive to her efforts - when you're raw and vulnerable you tend to seek out the people you know, people of your kind. She's grateful she never had to break bad news to any of them.

By the time the sky outside turns dark, Emma had escorted all waiting individuals to their loved ones inside. Her legs hurt and her back is sore but she forgets all that whenever she sees those people's faces light up at the sight of each other. After years of being jaded, it's a much welcome feeling.

She leaves the last couple to their privacy, closing the door behind her. That's when she hears an exasperated _Damn it!_ from the next room. She takes a peek and sees Liam shaking his hand like he's just burned his hand on something really hot. A barely conscious man is on the bed lying on his stomach, the handle of a dagger sticking out of his back. Emma knows at first glance that this guy is one of theirs.

Liam attempts to pull the knife out again, a nasty blister already forming on his palm. He lets go with a frustrated growl when a line of smoke starts to rise from his hand, the blade barely moving an inch. Emma hears the faint sizzle and she knows if she steps closer, she'll recognize the smell of burnt flesh.

Emma decides to intervene then. He's only going to hurt himself more if he keeps trying to do that. "Let me."

His head snaps up at her voice, a look of surprise on his face. She ignores the way he hesitates and lets herself in. She stands next to Liam and wraps her hand around the hilt, pulling the dagger out slowly. A steady stream of blood adds to the already massive pool on the bed, dripping copiously to the floor. Liam grabs some bandages and puts pressure on the wound to try and control the bleeding. There's not much he can do when his abilities don't work on his own people.

Emma steps back to give him some room to work and that's when Killian enters the room, almost stumbling over his own feet. She takes one look at him and is immediately concerned.

"Are you okay?" she asks, instinctively moving to touch his pallid face.

He jerks out of her reach and Emma is stung by the gesture.

"I'm fine." he mutters, walking to the opposite side of the bed.

He looks at his brother, not saying a word. Liam shakes his head sadly. Killian stands there unmoving for a while before he reaches out to take the man's hand.

"Killian," Liam says quickly. "You don't have to do that."

Killian doesn't even raise his head, just holds the guy's hand in both of his. "It's alright," he says, a small smile on his face. "You don't have to be afraid."

Emma watches the man's expression change from pained to blissful. Liam takes his hands off the soaked pile of bandages and comes marching around the bed, Emma having to move out of his way.

"Killian," he calls, putting a bloody hand on his brother's shoulder. "That's enough."

Killian keeps his hold until the man's eyes flutter closed, a joyful look on his face as if he's having a very good dream. Liam wraps his other hand around Killian's forearm, staining his sleeve. He pulls carefully, guiding Killian back and away. The guy's hand falls limply out of Killian's grasp and dangles lifelessly from the bed.

Killian blinks slowly like he's coming out of a trance. Then he walks somewhat unsteadily out of the room. She moves to follow but Liam stops her.

"Let him walk it off." he tells her, the worry also showing on his face.

Emma remembers the last time Killian lost someone - this time she can't bring him to Henry to lift his spirits. She knows right then and there that she'd be waiting for him for a while.

—-

The wind bites at Emma's skin while she sits alone on a bench just outside the clinic. She wraps her coat more tightly around herself then shoves her hands in her pockets, Killian's jacket draped over her arm. She looks down the street again and frowns at the still empty stretch. He's been gone a lot longer than she expected.

She's not even sure what happened and Liam is certainly not telling her anything. She thinks maybe that man was someone close to them to trigger this kind of reaction. She tilts her head back, sighing at the circumstances. She's done a lot of waiting today. Perhaps this is the universe telling her it's just not meant to be.

She glances at the length of the road again, squinting her eyes at the silhouette of a man walking toward her. She stands up when he gets close enough and notices the look of mild surprise on his face.

"You could have waited inside." Killian says, his tone still with a hint of sadness.

Emma shrugs, resisting the urge to hug him. "It's quieter out here."

She hands him his coat, wondering how he's still able to walk after having spent that much time outside in a measly - and bloody - long sleeves. He takes it with a mumbled _Thanks_ but doesn't put it on. A hush falls between them as they stand in the bitter cold together, neither one moving to get back inside. His shoulders are trembling, from the weather or from something else, she can't be sure.

"I lost someone too," Emma starts, feeling the need to console him. "A long time ago."

He looks down at his shoes. "You don't have to talk about it."

But the thing is she does - she _has_ to talk about it. Because it's been too long since she's even thought of talking about it, about him, with someone else. And once she's started, the words just keep coming.

"We were together, you know, up there," she nods her head toward the night sky. "It was good, great even. I thought that was it, nothing and no one better will come along." she stops and waits until he lifts his head and locks eyes with her.

"Then The Descent happened. You remember how it was, how crazy and chaotic. Angels willingly falling to Earth to escape Heaven, to live with humans, and others to chase after other Angels, to keep mankind safe, to guard the Gates, a hundred different reasons,"

"And I had this feeling - it was almost a calling - that I had to go down too. I was so sure I'm supposed to be down here and there was really only one thing keeping me up there. So I asked him to come with me. And Neal- " Emma pauses, realizing this is the first time she's said his name in a long while. It feels strange on her tongue. "He would have followed me anywhere."

She looks away this time, choosing to stare at the long shadows they cast under the bright streetlamp. Killian doesn't say anything, just waits for her patiently to continue.

"So we came here and we were happy, we were content…" her eyebrows draw together at the memory. She waits for the tears to come but they do not. "I should have known it wouldn't last, good things never do. Eventually we found ourselves being hunted by another Angel, someone who felt betrayed by Neal when he chose to be with me. When he found us - he was angry and hurt and…that was the first time I ever saw an Angel die." Emma's voice is small. She swallows the lump in her throat.

"The only thing I could think of at the time was to run. I've been running ever since."

She sees Killian's shadow move and she turns her head to find his outstretched hand between them. She feels a sharp pain in her chest, staring at his palm. Even after the day he's had, his immediate reaction is to try and ease the ache she's feeling.

Emma doesn't take his hand, shaking her head. She did not tell that story to make herself feel better.

"You said it yourself - this grief is the last thing I have of him, I don't want to forget it," she watches him lower his hand and looks him in the eye this time. "It's something we all experience, pain. And it took me a long time to realize that I don't have to deal with it alone."

Killian stares at her long and hard. Finally, he sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. "You're right, love. I'm sorry."

Emma steps closer. "I don't need you to apologize. Just promise me you won't go off by yourself like that again, I've tried it, it doesn't work. You need someone - your brother, your friends, the people you work with - anyone."

His expression changes to one she can't quite describe. "I understand." he replies.

She raises an eyebrow at him because that is not what she wanted to hear him say.

Killian fixes his gaze on her, the intensity of which making her shiver more than the chilly breeze trying to find its way into her jacket. "I promise."


	3. Chapter 3

"Thank you for letting me borrow this, lad," Killian hands Henry back his dinosaur figure. "We took good care of each other."

"You're welcome!" Henry beams at him before putting it back on his desk.

Emma waves Henry over. "Okay come on kid, I promised Granny I'll have you back before dark."

Henry grabs his bag and scarf and runs out of the room, thundering down the steps before Emma or Killian can even blink.

"Yeah, we're going to have to keep up with that." Emma jerks her thumb in the direction of the staircase.

"I can feel the soreness in my legs already."

They make their way to the park on foot, with Henry constantly having to stop to wait for Emma and Killian to catch up. On the fourth time he already wondered out loud how he is able to outpace a couple of healthy adults. "I mean, your strides are a lot longer than mine, it actually takes me twice as many steps to get to the same place."

"Yes lad, but we're a _lot_ older so we're not as efficient as you. We're slower than we used to be." Killian replies, prompting a wide grin from Emma.

Henry shrugs, seemingly satisfied with Killian's explanation. He takes off on a run again when the park comes into view, weaving around the other people that are strolling the area.

"Are you kidding me, kid?" Emma grumbles under her breath and jogs after him. She hears Killian laugh behind her, the sound almost making her stop and turn back.

"Can you fly up there?" Henry spins around to face them, pointing to the top of the gigantic tree in the center of the park.

Emma quickly looks around to check if anyone heard and breathes a sigh of relief when she finds no one staring at them in a peculiar way.

"One of us can." Killian says when he catches up, a smirk on his face.

Emma elbows him in the ribs so hard, he actually says _Ow!_ out loud and rubs his chest.

"Can you fly _me_ up there?" Henry looks up at the massive tree. "I've always wanted to know what this place looks like from there." 

They both hesitate then, Emma already thinking of ways on how to explain that no, that is not possible.

She crouches in front of Henry. "It doesn't work like that, kid."

"How does it work then?" 

Emma hangs her head with a sigh. Children are challenging.

"Henry," Killian bends down himself and puts a hand on Henry's shoulder. "It's not like a bicycle where you can take someone else with you. It's a one person transit system."

"Well, then that's selfish." Henry huffs and crosses his arms over his chest.

"I am not going to argue with you on that." Killian smiles at him and squeezes his shoulder.

Emma cradles Henry's face in her hand. "There's the rest of this place for us, kid."

"Besides, the top of that tree is too far away from everyone else, I'm pretty sure it's lonely up there." Killian rises to his feet and puts his hands in his coat pockets.

Henry purses his lips before finally breaking into a smile. "Yeah, you're probably right."

Emma looks up at Killian, his blue eyes as clear as the sky behind him. He motions with his head and Henry happily follows him in the direction of the pond. She stays crouched on the ground and watches the two men walk away, Killian pulling Henry close to his side. She feels something shift inside her when they both openly laugh at the same time.

Killian looks back at her over his shoulder. "Are you coming, love?"

Emma finally gets to her feet and catches up to them. "I'm coming."

—-

Emma and Killian sit on a park bench while Henry feeds the ducks along the edge of the pond. The weather is perfect, not too cold, the last traces of winter having already melted away. So she's not sure why she's sitting so close to Killian when the bench could fit three people comfortably. He doesn't seem to mind though so she makes no effort to move.

Henry keeps his eyes on a couple of ducks wading in the water as he makes his way back to them.

"You need some more?" Emma asks when he's close enough, already grabbing the last bag of duck feed.

"Do Angels feel love?" Henry outright asks when he faces them.

Emma almost falls off the bench, her arm outstretched in front of her. She's certain now that Henry picked this day with Killian to be curious about Angels on purpose. Killian has never evaded any of his questions and Emma knows Henry's counting on that today.

"Do you?" he repeats when he doesn't get a response and takes the bag from Emma.

Killian leans forward in his seat, resting his elbows on his knees. "If you're asking that question…What makes you think we don't?"

Emma looks at Killian then but doesn't jump in. She likes how Killian doesn't treat Henry like a child, being as honest as he could be even with the most inappropriate inquiries.

"I guess I always thought Angels are…better, you know?"

"Mm, no," Killian shakes his head. "What do you mean by 'better?'"

"That they care more about what's right or wrong than stupid things like sadness or joy, hate or love." Henry grabs a handful from the bag and throws it toward the pond. The ducks scurry to get to the food.

"You think emotions are stupid?" Killian says, a hint of surprise in his voice.

"I know it makes people do stupid things like hurt other people or let go of someone they care about. Or give a child away." Henry chucks another fistful at the ducks with more force this time. "Maybe if there weren't all of those feelings then there wouldn't be any kind of confusion on the right thing to do."

Emma's stomach sinks at the kid's words. "Henry…"

"Come here, lad." Killian scoots to the edge of the bench and beckons Henry closer. He takes the bag from Henry's hands and sets it aside. "Why did you want to come to the park today?"

Henry's brows furrow at the question. "Because I want to spend the day with you and Emma."

"Mm-hmm. Not because it was the 'right' thing to do. You're here with us now because you enjoy our company. It wasn't a decision between right or wrong." Killian looks earnestly at the boy. "Life is not all about making the right choice. In fact it's making the wrong ones that makes it more meaningful."

Emma keeps her mouth shut. There's not much she can say to follow that anyway.

Killian continues. "We always dwell on the things that brought us pain but I'd like to think it's because they're the outliers. We always remember those that don't happen often because they're just that - uncommon. We pay little attention to the things that make us happy because there are so many things that do, it just fades into the back of our minds like most normal, everyday moments."

"Yes, what happened back then hurt but there have been much more delightful experiences since then, right? Most of which wouldn't have come to pass had that choice been anything else."

Henry rubs his shoes on the grass, the treaded soles digging up some of the loose dirt. Then his lips slowly curl up. "You talk like you _do_ feel love."

Killian laughs softly. "Yes, and everything else."

"Then how are you different from us humans?"

Killian tilts his head. "I guess we're not that different then, are we?"

Emma chooses to speak up then that the mood already shifted to something lighter. "You mean apart from the wings and the halos? Sure."

Henry rolls his eyes at her. He grabs the bag from the bench and turns to head back down to the pond. He stops, spins around and says, "Thanks, Killian."

Emma watches Killian smile in reply. She finds herself once again in awe of how he navigated that serious conversation, even managing to curb Henry's melancholy. And he didn't even have to use his ability to do it.

She says just as much on their way back to the clinic after dropping Henry off. The sun is already low in the sky, their shadows stretching long across the sidewalk. A pale orange hue casts over her surroundings and when she looks at Killian, she has to try really hard not to trip over her own feet.

"Oh, it wouldn't work on him."

Emma suddenly stops right before they cross the street to the clinic. "It wouldn't?"

"It doesn't work on humans." he explains simply.

"It doesn't?" Clearly she's made some assumptions on how Killian's ability works.

"None of us had the intention to meddle with mankind when we descended, there's no need for any of our powers to have an effect on humans." he looks down both sides of the street before stepping off the sidewalk.

Emma keeps pace with him. "Yeah, that makes sense."

"Then why did you sound surprised?" he asks, glancing at her as they turn the path to the familiar front door.

"I don't know," she shrugs. "Maybe because I want it to work for anyone? If I could do what you do, I would always want to protect the people I care about from any kind of sadness, human or Angel."

Killian chuckles low as he comes to a stop by the doorway. "No, you wouldn't."

"No?" Emma tries to hide the irritation in her tone. What does he know about what she wants?

"If you don't let them experience pain, you rob them of their pleasure too."

She makes a face that prompts him to explain.

"We know of joy because we know of sorrow. We know what it feels like to hit rock bottom, and that makes the high, well, high." he scratches absent-mindedly behind his ear. "It takes some hurt to make it good is what I'm getting at."

Emma can't help but laugh, a genuine smile stretching across her face.

"What?" Killian asks like he's missed a punchline.

"You- " she shakes her head. "You are something else, you know that?"

He narrows his eyes at her. "Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

"Definitely a good thing." she replies, slowly bringing her hand up to cup his face. She rubs her thumb over the stubble just below his dimple.

He lifts his hand and lets his fingers rest on the inside of her wrist - Emma feels her pulse beat against them. She watches him draw a deep sigh as he closes his eyes.

Emma's not sure what she wants to happen next but it certainly isn't Killian pulling her arm down. She tries to say something in protest but the door yanks open and she steps back in pure reflex, her fingertips already feeling cold as they part ways with his skin.

Liam stands in the doorway, eyeing both of them suspiciously. Another man in crutches behind him is trying to peek over Liam's shoulder.

"Swan." Liam greets. Emma thinks it's simply to break the awkward silence he accidentally walked into.

"I…" Emma locks eyes with Killian. "…was just leaving. Bye, Killian."

"Emma," he calls after her, making her turn back around. "I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?"

She lets her the corners of her mouth turn upward before nodding in reply. She walks back down the path to the street, the grin he returned planting itself in the back of her mind. She looks back one last time to see Killian looking right back at her.

—-

"I need to talk to you."

Emma sees Liam walking toward her. She looks behind her and is promptly confused when she finds no one else.

"Me?" she points a finger to herself, not quite believing Liam is currently trying to start a conversation with her.

"Yes you," he says irritably, peering into a nearby room and motioning for her to come over. "In here."

She moves tentatively, still in disbelief. Liam only ever speaks to her when he absolutely has to. "Okay…"

She enters the empty room and turns to face him. He closes the door quietly then rubs a hand over his jaw. He then crosses his arms over his chest, very clearly struggling to find the words to say to her.

Emma opens her mouth to try and ease the tension in the air but he beats her to it.

"What are you doing?"

She blinks, her mouth still comically open. "I'm…helping out…around here? I just thought you guys could use an extra hand, what with the increasing number of patients that come through here," she rambles, unsure of what Liam wants to hear. "But if I get in the way I could just- "

"Not that," Liam waves his hand in the air impatiently. "With my brother. With Killian."

Emma's eyebrows shoot up to her hairline. What is she supposed to say to that? Her reflexes kick in and she takes the defensive, crossing her arms over her chest too. "Oh, am I about to hear the big brother speech?" she didn't even try to hide the sarcasm.

Liam hangs his head with a sigh. He's enjoying this exchange as much as she is, that much she's sure of. He takes a couple of steps forward and uncrosses his arms as a gesture of peace. "You care about him, I know that much. But I'm telling you now, don't start something if you're not willing to commit."

Emma throws her hands in the air. "So I _am_ hearing the big brother speech."

"No, _listen_ to me," Liam comes even closer and Emma senses the urgency in his voice, how serious this is for him. "I know my brother. He's taken a liking to you and it's been a long time since - and the last time, he- " he stops, pinching the bridge of his nose. She would laugh at how much he's stumbling over his words if he didn't look so grim. "I just don't want him to go through all of it again when this falls apart. I don't think he can is my point. I was barely able to pull him out of it before, I don't think anyone can when it happens again."

Her eyebrows draw together, making little sense of what Liam is trying to tell her. It takes everything in her to ignore his use of the word _when_. "Killian is a grown man, one of the strongest people I know. I think you're giving him less credit than he deserves."

"My brother is a grown man _who has abilities._ The kind that has literally driven everyone else insane. Why do you think that power is so rare?" Liam fights to keep the calm in his voice.

"Because not a lot of Angels chose helping people feel good over invisibility or you know, healing powers." she gestures toward him.

"Emma," she frowns at how he says her name, like someone who is trying to explain something simple to someone who cannot understand. "Killian is an empath, he just says he controls emotions to let people think it only works one way."

She tries to process the information Liam is giving her. "Right, an empath, someone who can share feelings."

"Exactly."

Emma puts a hand on her forehead. It's clear she's missing something and Liam is not helping her at all in filling that hole. "Yeah, so they help people feel less miserable. How can that drive someone mad?"

"Did he tell you what happens to those feelings he helps them overcome?" he asks, leaning against the unoccupied bed.

She hesitates. "What do you mean?"

"Those people out there he's helping, the fear and the pain he's alleviating for them, they all have to go somewhere." Liam scrubs a hand over his face but doesn't say anything more.

Emma's face scrunches in confusion. "What do you mean?" she says again.

Liam sighs, like he's second-guessing his decision to engage in this conversation in the first place. "For his powers to work the way he wants them to, he has to free up some emotional room in that person and the easiest and fastest way to do that is to take the strongest one, the one that person is feeling the most at the moment, for himself."

"You mean...he..." Emma can't wrap her head around the idea yet. Because it sounds to her like Killian is voluntarily absorbing everyone's worst feelings and it's just too absurd for _anyone_ to take on.

"He can usually control it - when to do it and how much he needs to take in. It took him years to learn how," He clenches his jaw as if he would rather not remember those years. "But sudden contact can catch him off guard and there's little he can do to protect himself, especially if the wave is too strong. And being an empath, everything feels much, much stronger."

She recalls how Killian reacted when that woman at the clinic grabbed his hand, begging him to save her friend - he barely contained the flinch. Then her chest tightens when she remembers those long walks he used to have when someone dies in their clinic - those Angels whose hands he held until they passed. He felt every second of their death and it suddenly makes sense to Emma that he takes his time to pull himself together.

"That's..." she shakes her head, not finding the right word to finish her sentence.

Liam looks at her, _Now you know_ written all over his face. "Do you understand now?"

Emma nods distractedly, her head feeling separate from the rest of her body.

"I just need you to be sure that's all," he says softly. "One heartbreak almost killed him. He's not going to survive another one."

Liam puts a hand on her elbow then moves to leave the room. Just before he turns the doorknob, Emma calls out his name.

"What happened to the others? Those Angels who had the same ability he has?"

He sighs deeply before he looks at her over his shoulder. "There are not a lot of ways an Angel can die down here but they all found one."

Emma stares at the door long after he's closed it.

—-

"So your brother and I had an interesting conversation." Emma says indifferently, like she's describing the weather. She keeps her eyes on the sidewalk and wraps her fingers more tightly around the paper cup in her hand.

Killian stops in his tracks. "When?"

She lifts her eyes to look at him directly. "This morning."

He throws his head back and heaves a huge sigh. When his eyes meet hers again, they look apologetic. "I'm sorry. For whatever he said. He's not the most tactful person."

Emma doesn't disagree with that but that's hardly the reason she brought it up. "I get it, he means well. But he also made some…clarifications on what exactly you can do."

Killian bristles at that, like he knows exactly what Liam had revealed to her. He rarely takes offense at anything said about him but now, he's actually clenching his jaw. "It's not a big deal." he says through gritted teeth and resumes the walk back to the clinic.

She chases after him and matches his stride. "I think it is. Why else would you not tell people?"

"Because people don't need to know." he answers, not slowing his pace at all.

"You're saying people don't need to know what _they're_ doing," Emma reaches out to hold his hand. "When they do this- "

Killian jerks his body away that he almost steps off the curb. _"Emma."_

"Right there. Do you even care what that other person feels when you cringe like that when all they tried to do was hold your hand?"

He doesn't say anything, just keeps his gaze fixed on her.

"I'm not saying you should tell everyone everything you can do. I just- " Emma hesitates to say the words out loud. "I just wish you told _me_."

Killian's face softens, his fingers twitching at his side and his tense shoulders unwinding. He takes a step closer and Emma has to tilt her head up to maintain eye contact. She can see him struggling with indecision but she stands her ground and waits patiently for him to move.

Then a shrill ring cuts into the silence, startling both of them. It rings two more times before Killian reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone, making a face at the name flashing on the screen. His brother had impeccable timing.

"What?" he says irritably, turning away from Emma.

She sighs heavily at the interrupted moment, half convinced Liam only called to ruin it on purpose and didn't really have anything important to say. She drinks the last of her coffee while he finishes his phone call. The look on his face when he turns toward her again tells her that Liam, in fact, had called for a reason.

"We need to get back," Killian says, putting his phone back in his pocket. "Or I need to get back, you don't really have- "

"Let's go." Emma rolls her eyes, already moving her feet.

They walk for another five minutes, neither of them feeling the need to fill it with small talk. He quickens his pace when the clinic comes into view - she can already hear the urgent yelling from half a block away. Killian navigates his way through the people outside the clinic, Emma close behind him.

"Liam!" Killian raises his voice to get his brother's attention. "What happened?"

Relief washes over Liam's face when he sees them. "Still happening, I think. A group of idiots opened fire on each other and now we have this." he waves his hands around.

"What?" Emma says, thinking she might have misheard.

"Where?" Killian asks at the same time.

Liam looks from Killian to Emma then back to Killian. "That empty warehouse down the road. It doesn't matter. Listen, I need you to - Killian!" 

Emma turns around to find Killian already marching away.

Liam grabs his brother's elbow and pulls him back. "Where are you going?"

"To that warehouse. If it's still happening then there might be people there who need our help."

Liam does not let go of Killian. "We have people _here_ who need our help."

" _You're_ here for them. And everyone else in this place. I'm going to that warehouse." Killian tugs his arm free.

Liam walks around Killian and blocks his path, raising his arms in front of him. "No, you're not. Angels are _shooting_ other Angels there, was that not clear? All of these injured people went there on purpose but did not plan on getting shot. We can't even heal half of them and you want to walk right into it?"

"Not all the bullets in that gunfight will hurt me."

"Some will, Killian. And if they do I can't _do_ anything about it." The desperation in Liam's voice is getting stronger.

"I can do more there - I can try and stop those Angels from firing another shot, they just need to _feel_ they don't have to." Killian explains, still determined to leave the clinic.

Liam stares at his brother for too long that Emma's sure Killian has won the argument.

"Fine," Liam relents, dropping his arms to his side. "But you're not going alone."

"I'll go with him," Emma offers, surprising both men. "And don't think you can talk me out of it when your own brother just failed to do the same for you." she adds when Killian tries to say something.

Liam reluctantly steps aside, his eyebrows still drawn together in concern. "Get back here in one piece will you. Both of you."

Killian nods his head and claps his brother firmly on the shoulder. He glances briefly at Emma before walking out the door with purpose. She follows him outside, the echo of her heavy footsteps lost in the surrounding noise.


	4. Chapter 4

When they arrive at the warehouse, there are no gunshots, no yelling. The place is eerily quiet and looks mostly deserted. If not for the bloodstains on the ground, Emma wouldn't think that Angel-on-Angel violence had gone down there.

"Looks like the fight is over." she whispers, peering above the stack of crates they are currently hiding behind.

Killian shakes his head. "It's a standoff." he points toward the far end of the wide space, where a man is crouched down, a gun in his hand.

Emma scans the other side of the room and is promptly confused when she sees a familiar face. Arthur is holding his gun too, finger poised over the trigger. Her eyebrows furrow even more at the few other Angels hunkered down beside him.

"Arthur, this is getting ridiculous. Just put the gun down then we can talk." the other man yells.

"I think we passed ridiculous the second you fired that gun." Arthur bellows back.

"You fired first!"

"Because you didn't want to listen!"

"Is this seriously just about a quarrel between these two?" Emma wonders out loud, keeping her voice low.

"I doubt either of them will willingly start a shootout over a personal misunderstanding." Killian replies.

She ducks her head back behind the crates. "So what's the plan?"

He takes a second to answer, running it over in his head. "I'm going to talk to him." he jerks his head toward Arthur's opponent.

Emma raises an eyebrow. "That's your master plan?" she says incredulously. "What makes you think that will work?"

Killian evades the question completely. "Stay here."

She tries to make a grab at his jacket but he moves too fast for her to stop him. _"Killian!"_ she hisses instead as he walks carefully out of their hiding spot.

He strides all the way to the center of the warehouse, right in the middle of both sides. Emma braces herself in case she needs to run over there - he did ask her to stay where she is but Liam also told them to come back alive and she's more keen to make the latter happen.

"Are you boys just about done with this squabble?"

Emma hangs her head at Killian's way of announcing his presence. Antagonizing Angels armed with guns is just about the last thing any sane person should do.

Arthur pops his head out from his barricade and scowls. "Oh for fuck's sake Killian, bugger off."

"Killian?" the other man actually stands up, gun lowered at his side. "Liam Jones' little brother?"

" _Younger_ brother," Killian corrects him. He faces him, turning his back on Arthur and his posse. "Merlin, what are you trying to accomplish here?"

"I'm trying to dissuade this madman from his quest." the guy, Merlin, gestures firmly toward Arthur.

"There is nothing mad about what we are after, you want it too." Arthur rises to his feet now too, hand tight around the handle of his gun. Killian shifts again to keep both men in his sight.

"But _how_ you plan to do it is demented. It's completely irrational." Merlin cants his head to look past Killian and directly at Arthur.

"It is only irrational if you care about this place and the people who live here." Arthur practically spits the last four words out in disgust. The other Angels behind him get on their feet too.

"I do! And so should you!" Merlin bites back, eyes wide in disbelief at Arthur's cruel words.

"It's because of people like you that we've been stuck here all this time." Arthur and his company raise their guns, aiming it across the room.

Emma jumps out from behind the crates when Merlin's side does the same, Killian still standing between them.

"Get out of the way Killian. This does not concern you - not yet anyway." Arthur warns.

Killian glances at Arthur then turns toward Merlin. Emma barely keeps her feet from moving as well when Killian stalks toward Merlin with purpose.

"Killian, don't be stupid." Merlin keeps his gun trained on the row of Angels on the other side.

"I think I'm the one making the most sense right now," Killian comes to a stop right in front of the barrel of Merlin's gun. "If not the only one."

He puts one hand on the gun and the other on Merlin's wrist. He keeps his hold until the rage melts off Merlin's face and he lowers his firearm. Merlin tells his friends to holster their weapons too. Emma raises her eyebrows at how quickly they follow his orders - it's clear how much respect they have for their leader.

"So it takes just one of Little Jones' magic touches and you stop fighting for what you believe in," Arthur laughs sardonically. "Then I don't need to waste my time on you, you are not the kind of Angel I require." he puts his gun away too.

"Too many people have already been hurt by all of this. Too many _Angels_." Merlin says, his tone laced with sadness.

"You and I both know it didn't need to happen. If you'd only listened." There is no hint of remorse in Arthur's tone.

"I think it's time for you to go." Emma tells Arthur and his followers but keeps a watchful eye on Killian.

Arthur's head snaps in her direction, only having noticed her. His mouth opens when Emma goes to stand beside Killian. But he just narrows his eyes then motions for the rest of his group to follow him out without further objections.

"Are you okay?" Emma asks Killian as soon as Arthur and his men leave the vicinity. She keeps herself from touching him, even over his clothes.

Killian nods, his _yes_ barely audible. Emma notices him clenching and unclenching his fists but says nothing of it.

"I apologize for this, for all of it," Merlin rubs the back of his neck. "I was foolish to think any of this was a good idea. I tried to hold them back, I really did, but at some point we had to defend ourselves."

"Don't blame yourself for what happened," Emma offers when Killian doesn't reply. "They're doing what they can for those who got hurt at the clinic not too far from here, they can use all the help they can get." she turns her head when Killian wanders off and climbs up one of the platforms.

"We know the place, we'll offer whatever we can." Merlin says.

Emma hears them leave, distracted by Killian who is crouched down on one of the large containers in the far corner of the warehouse. "What is it?" she calls, climbing up herself.

He pulls at something heavy and to Emma's surprise, the lid actually opens. She peers inside and finds a woman sitting there, holding her knees to her chest, eyes wide in fear, and cheeks stained with tears.

"Hello love," Killian greets her softly, smiling. "It's over now, you can come out from there." Emma almost stops him when he reaches his hand out. Almost.

The woman unfolds her legs and tentatively rises to her feet, taking small, shaky steps toward Killian's outstretched hand. She wraps her slim fingers around his and immediately relaxes, her shoulders loosening and her fearful eyes becoming less afraid with every second. She needs to scale the steel ladder to get out but she doesn't let go of Killian's hand, using just her left one to pull herself up.

So it shouldn't have surprised Emma when the woman slips on the fourth step and loses her balance. Emma barely has time to react when Killian starts to tip over. She rushes forward to grab his other hand and as soon as she does, a crippling fear grips her and she loses her breath, falling to her knees. Tears start to pool in her eyes, making it difficult to see how Killian struggles to regain his balance. Terror seizes her chest, choking her that she almost misses Killian trying to pull his hand free. Emma wants to let go but her fingers are paralyzed.

The woman below has half the mind to release her hold on Killian's hand and hangs on to the steel ladder instead. Killian uses his free hand to clutch Emma's forearm over her jacket and pulls until his fingers slip free from her grasp and they both end up on their butts, wheezing. The fear leaves her body in waves as she takes a lungful of air in an attempt to catch her breath.

"I'm sorry." Killian rasps, crawling toward her. She flinches instinctively and she doesn't miss the look of hurt that flashes across his face when she does. He reaches out but stops halfway, then moves to help the woman up instead.

They all sit at the top of the container for a while until the panting subsides, the sound of their hurried breathing the only thing keeping a very awkward silence at bay. They descend the platform one after the other, Killian swaying unsteadily when he reaches the ground. The woman insists on feeling much better, refusing Emma's offer to assist her while they walk. Killian avoids all kinds of contact, even averting his eyes when she so much as glances in his direction. 

They hardly speak a word to each other on the way back to the clinic. Emma's not sure who's keeping an arm's length from whom - if it's her or Killian. Or both.

—-

Emma sits in one of the chairs that got randomly placed in the hallway and leans her head against the wall, closing her eyes. Their incredibly long and eventful day is finally coming to a close and miraculously, they managed to keep everyone alive - even those who had to settle for the non-magical kind of treatment.

Now the adrenaline is wearing off and she is starting to feel the heavy exhaustion creep into her skin. And without work as a distraction, her thoughts drift to the events that went down in the warehouse.

Just when she thought she's learned everything there is to learn about Killian's powers. But apparently he doesn't trust her enough to tell her about all of it - he never did, hearing most of the important details from Liam instead.

She stares angrily at her hands currently gripping her knees. Then she stands abruptly, ignoring the head rush that follows. She stomps down the now mostly deserted corridor, making a beeline for the back room.

Emma bursts through the door, making Killian sit up where he was lying on the couch. Some of her ill temper ebbs away at the sight of him. He looks like he wants to throw up - maybe he already did. She thinks perhaps this isn't the best time to have a conversation and she mutters just as much before turning on her heels to leave.

"I'm sorry," Killian calls out, absolute exhaustion in his voice. "About earlier." he adds when she steps back into the room. He's lowered his legs to the floor but doesn't get up.

She shuts the door quietly. "We don't have to talk about it now." she says, feeling a lot less angry when she hears him speak.

"No, I want to."

He moves to stand and Emma quickly motions for him to keep sitting, dropping herself in the chair next to him. She watches him rub the back of his neck as he searches for the right words.

"I wasn't expecting it," he starts, "When you touched my hand, I wasn't prepared for that. And I couldn't stop it."

"Stop what, exactly?" she asks carefully.

Killian sighs heavily, resting his elbows on his knees. "My brother already told you about how I…take other people's feelings and help them summon something else to replace it," he waits for her to nod.

"I usually only have to worry about that one connection - amplify the good feelings, keep the bad ones to myself. But when you- " he stops then absentmindedly scratches his jaw. "All of a sudden there was this other doorway and I couldn't stop it from going through it - to you. And for that, I deeply apologize."

Emma's face softens at the sincerity in his blue eyes. "You do understand I'm not upset about how it happened, right? I'm mad because I didn't know. If I knew wha- "

"I know, you wouldn't have grabbed my hand- "

"If I knew what was going to happen," she raises her voice to talk over him. "I would have braced myself instead of being caught off guard like that."

Killian stares at her in reply, like he doesn't know what to say.

She leans forward in her seat, moving closer to him. "So that's what it feels like when you…do what you do?"

 _Being an empath, everything feels much, much stronger_. Liam certainly wasn't exaggerating when he said that.

Killian takes his time in answering. "What you felt, it's not usually that intense. The stronger the feeling, the harder it is to restrain or fend off. And when the emotions are not mine, it's a lot more difficult to control especially when I'm not prepared to steer it to where it needs to go."

"Where is it supposed to go?" Emma asks even though she already knows the answer.

"When I take it from someone, I make sure it doesn't go anywhere else."

The door opens then and Liam enters the room, followed closely by Merlin. They show no indication of guilt for having interrupted a private conversation. Liam glances briefly at Emma but closes the door behind him anyway.

"Tell them what you told me." Liam crosses his arms over his chest.

Merlin faces Emma and Killian's direction. "We all went to that warehouse willingly because we thought we all had the same goal…" he hesitates, making Liam unfold one of his arms and motion for him to continue. "Go back to Heaven."

Emma's eyes widen in disbelief. _"What?"_

"I know it sounds ridiculous but you can't tell me you haven't thought about it too." Merlin challenges.

"Sure. But we know it's not an option for us. We all knew that the moment we decided to leave." Liam says then starts pacing.

"How exactly did you plan on going back?" Emma rises to her feet, putting her hands on her hips.

"That's what the meeting was for. Arthur told us he's found a way, it just didn't occur to me that his way was the most obvious and also the most insane…" Merlin trails off, running a hand over his short hair.

"He wants to open the Gates." Killian finishes for him.

Emma gapes at Killian. Liam stops pacing, evidently hearing about this part for the first time himself. They wait for Merlin to deny it but he doesn't.

"Is he out of his mind?" Liam tries to keep his voice calm, already very close to failing.

"I said the same thing and that's when he pulled out his gun. I think he only wanted to threaten us but the situation escalated quickly and before I knew it, I was firing myself," Merlin shakes his head in regret. "No one wanted to kill anyone, there was just a vast difference in opinion and a horrible mismanagement of the situation."

Liam starts pacing again, covering the length of the room in three wide strides before turning and repeating the pattern that Emma gets dizzy just watching him. Killian, still sitting on the couch, digs the heels of his palms in his eyes.

"Can they actually do that, open the Gates?" Emma asks, already fearing the answer.

"If they can rally enough Angels, it's possible. And clearly some agree with him - Light or Dark doesn't even matter anymore. Only those who care about this place," Merlin gestures to the dimly lit street outside. "And those who don't."

Emma thinks about the last time someone attempted to open the Gates and how spectacularly it failed. She thinks about the years she's spent here, including the miserable ones. She thinks about all the people she's met, the _humans_. She thinks about Henry.

"We can't let that happen." she declares, her hands curling into fists.

"We're not going to," Liam walks up to Merlin. "If he needs more Angels then we should do what we can to keep others from joining his cause. I hope you will too." he stretches his hand out.

Merlin shakes it firmly. "You're already doing great work by showing everyone we can co-exist here peacefully. We'll do our part to stop Arthur's plans from ever coming to fruition." he nods at Emma then takes his leave, quietly exiting the room.

Liam takes a deep breath and exhales. He closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. When he opens them again, he turns his head to the couch and sighs. He approaches his brother and puts a hand on his shoulder. "You look like death, Killian. You've done enough here. Go home, get some rest."

Killian looks up at Liam with tired eyes. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, little brother," he claps Killian on the back. _"Go home."_

Killian doesn't even acknowledge the nickname he always grumbles at, simply grabbing his jacket from the back of the couch and shrugging into it.

Liam pulls Emma aside and speaks to her in a low voice. "Can you go with him? I would but I have to finish up some things here."

"I'll manage by myself, Liam." Killian says just as he stumbles on his way to the door.

Emma mouths _I'll take him home_ and Liam mutters a quick _Thanks_ before she follows Killian out.

She takes her phone out while they navigate the series of turns to the front door. She comes to a stop just as they exit the clinic, still tapping away. She lifts her head and realizes Killian is already walking down the street. "I can call a cab." she yells after him, waving her phone in the air.

He ignores her and keeps his pace, stuffing his hands in his pockets. Emma lowers her arms in defeat, huffs, then puts her phone away. She jogs to catch up to him and keeps quiet the rest of the way. He doesn't ask her to go back, which she thinks is a good sign. Or maybe a bad one if he thinks he needs someone close in case he doesn't make it all the way home.

It occurs to her then that she doesn't even know where they're going. She doesn't know where he lives - it hasn't really come up yet - so she just follows his lead. He walks with his head down, like he's on autopilot, his legs working on muscle memory alone.

They make it two blocks before he falls against a lamppost, his grip around it the only thing keeping him vertical. Emma moves to help him but he raises his other hand to stop her. He blinks a few times like he's trying to keep his head from spinning.

"Think I'll take that cab now." he slurs, dangerously close to fainting on the sidewalk.

"Sit." she tells him. He practically slides down to the floor.

They wait on the curb for their taxi in silence. She's sure he's drifted off to sleep a couple of times, snapping awake when his body threatens to crumple to the pavement completely. He's still able to fold himself in the backseat of the cab when it arrives then immediately passes out.

"Forrest Street, yeah?" the driver asks to confirm the destination she provided when she called for the service.

The car idles for a full minute. Killian didn't have the chance to tell her where he lives and she's not sure he can tell her even if she wakes him up now. She considers calling Liam then belatedly realizes she doesn't have his number.

So she does the only thing she could at the moment. She tells the driver to go to her address.

—-

Emma leans against her kitchen table, cradling a fresh cup of coffee in her hands. She looks across toward the living room, where Killian is still deep in sleep on her couch. He hasn't moved at all since he dropped there last night, didn't even have the energy to take his shoes and jacket off.

After everything that happened yesterday, it makes even less sense to Emma why anyone would want the kind of ability Killian has. She can't imagine having to live with that burden for however long they've been down here. There are days she can't even deal with her own emotions, let alone feelings of other people - of _strangers_.

Then she remembers what happened to the other Angels who had the same ability he has and is immediately grateful that he hasn't gone down a similar path. It says a lot about him that he's still here, doing what he's doing with something that drove other people insane. She feels that familiar sense of awe rise in her chest again, that wonder he always seems to awaken in her.

Killian stirs just then, opening his eyes slowly. She pads over to him and puts her coffee mug on the table. It takes him a few seconds to wake all the way up, gawking at the ceiling. He pulls himself up with a groan, seems to have immediately regretted it when he pinches the bridge of his nose once he's upright.

Emma pulls the sleeves of her shirt over her wrists and sits on the table in front of him.

"Where are we?" he asks blearily, voice full of sleep.

"My place." she answers simply.

He blinks at her. "Sorry, love. I didn't mean to crash here like that."

"Don't be ridiculous, it's fine."

Killian rubs his temples, screwing his eyes shut.

"Do you need…like, an aspirin or something?" she's not really sure what to offer him.

He cracks an eye open. "It won't help," he glances at the cup of coffee on the table. "But I could use one of those."

Emma smiles at him then stands, taking her coffee mug to the kitchen. She hears Killian sigh heavily before following, the sound of his listless footsteps close behind her. She pours him a cup and pushes it toward him on the counter. He nods at her in thanks and drinks it like that, relief washing over his ashen face at the first sip.

"Why do you do it?" the words slip out of Emma's mouth before she even realizes she's said them.

Killian's eyebrow goes up in question.

"All of it. The clinic, helping _us_ , the whole empathy thing," she already started, might as well go through with it. "It's not exactly what you're supposed to do down here."

"What is it you think I'm supposed to do instead?" he throws the question back at her then takes another drink, the mug covering half his face that Emma can only see his weary eyes.

She doesn't answer, can't give him a decent one. She watches him put the cup back down on the counter and stare at it.

"That's the problem. We all think we're meant to play into these roles, these labels," he keeps his eyes down. "Light and Dark, Human and Angel. We let those designations limit what we think and do, let it define how we live. And we end up fooling ourselves into thinking that we're free, when really all we've done is bring what some of us tried to escape up there, here."

Emma listens to him breathe, something heavy accompanying his every exhale. He's tired in all the ways that matter, but when he looks up at her, he smiles in a way that makes his eyes twinkle and her pulse quicken.

"I do what I do because I believe it, not because I'm supposed to."

Her fingers twitch on the counter as she fights the urge to reach over and hold his hand. She's not entirely sure he's ready - that _she's_ ready.

"I've never met anyone like you." she whispers, the very first thought that's invaded her mind ever since he pulled her into that crack in the wall, finally out in the open.

He locks eyes with her, taking a step forward. She's not sure he realizes he's moved but she stays where she is, planting her bare feet on the floor. She tilts her head up to keep eye contact, the blues of his eyes something she can stare at and get lost in willingly.

"You're quite special yourself, Swan." he says, voice low that Emma leans closer to hear him.

They stand like that in the middle of the kitchen - close enough to feel the heat radiating from each other but not touching the other one at all. Killian is looking at her as if he's searching for something and in that moment, Emma wanted nothing more than to give it to him, whatever he's looking for. He exhales softly, the warmth of his breath ghosting over Emma's cheeks. She forgets how to do the same, her lungs holding the air she's breathed in when he last spoke.

She feels her chest tighten and her stomach flutter, an unfamiliar sensation making its way down her spine, to the tips of her fingers. She thinks she needs to share this feeling with him, that he deserves just as much after everything he's been through.

And right then Emma understands. She sees how Killian's ability is not a burden, that she's only ever really seen him take on feelings of fear and pain. She realizes now that he's able to share in _all_ kinds of emotions and it's suddenly the most important thing in the world that she be the one to give him the good kind.

But the moment passes. Killian blinks, breaking the trance they found themselves in. His grip on the kitchen counter tightens as he takes a step backward, away from her. And it's too far for Emma, too great a distance between them that she follows him, then leaves no room between them at all. 

They both gasp the moment their lips touch, an overwhelming wave of exhaustion slamming into her, almost buckling her knees. He tries to pull back but she doesn't let him, grabbing the back of his neck and drawing him closer. Her fingers tangle in his hair, prickling at the bursts of relief that impatiently breaks free and flows into her.

Killian wraps a hand around her forearm, tugging at it softly, while his other hand grips her shoulder. He pushes her away, attempts to pull at her hand around his neck and breaks the kiss, panting heavily. His face is creased in intense concentration - Emma knows he's trying to repress his emotions, to keep them from leaving his body.

"I don't want to hurt you." he manages, voice breaking.

Emma brings her other hand up and cradles his face, makes him look at her in the eye. "And I don't want you to keep hurting."

She holds his gaze, watching the internal struggle. She sees the moment he breaks and this time Killian closes the gap between them, the hand on her shoulder going down her back and settling on her hip. He puts the other on her jaw and rubs his thumb over her cheek. Emma feels a deep affection seep into her bones and it's like a drug - she desperately wants more.

She licks his lips, running her tongue along his bottom one. She does it again until he finally opens his mouth with a soft moan. She rises to her toes as she pushes her tongue into the heat of his mouth, every nerve in contact with his skin feeling like it's on fire. Killian leans into her, the hand on her hip moving to the small of her back to pull her closer.

Emma feels every single emotion that's pouring out of him and it makes her head spin and her heart swell. It's too much and not enough at the same time that the only physical reaction her body can think of is to cry. The first sob escapes her throat, passing through Killian's lips. He presses his mouth against hers one more time before he pulls away, leaving Emma breathless.

 "I'm sorry." he whispers, wiping at the tear that already cascaded down Emma's face.

The intensity of the feelings in her chest wanes and she knows immediately that he is starting to rein them in. She holds on to what she can, bringing his head down toward her so that their foreheads touch. "Please, don't."

"It's okay, Emma." he assures her. He puts both hands on each of her wrists and pulls down.

Emma releases her hold around his neck and slides her hands down over his chest. She registers a tingling in her fingers and realizes they are trembling, even pressed up against him. She feels the steady beating of his heart underneath as another tear rolls down her cheek.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the Teen Wolf series finale kept me from functioning properly and updating this last week that I am posting two chapters now. Mostly because it got way too long that I had to split it into two separate parts.
> 
> Also upping the rating.

"I need coffee - there's coffee here right?" David's voice wafts into the kitchen.

"Honestly, David." Mary Margaret doesn't hide the disapproval in her tone.

"Do you even have food in your own apartment?" Regina joins the conversation, the sound of the door clicking closed finally echoing off the walls.

Killian steps back gracefully, like he's used to moving quickly away from people. Emma faces the coffee pot and hastily wipes the tears off her cheeks.

"Yes but I got dragged out of there before I can- " David stops in his tracks when he steps foot in the kitchen.

"I should really take those keys back." Emma says, turning around and leaning on the counter, crossing her arms over her chest. 

Mary Margaret's face changes to something comical when she sees Killian scratching behind his ear. She swats at David's shoulder then shoves him back toward the front door.

"Guys, don't be idiots, you're already inside." Emma calls out when all three scramble to leave.

Mary Margaret peeks her head around the corner, guilt all over her face. "We're so sorry. We didn't expect - we're sorry."

"I should go," Killian whispers, putting his mug in the sink. "Thank you for making sure I did not spend the night on some random sidewalk."

"What? No, look, no one's leaving." Emma pushes off the counter and unfolds her arms. She looks at Killian then at her friends crowding on one side of the room. 

"Okay, so, you want to introduce us then?" David jerks his head in Killian's direction and got an elbow to the gut for his trouble.

Emma sighs and throws her head back - maybe while she's staring at the ceiling, the situation will become less awkward and painful. But of course, it does not.

Because Mary Margaret, being the sociable person she is, takes it upon herself to start the introductions, crossing the kitchen in three quick strides with her hand already outstretched in front of her. "My name's Mary Margaret."

Emma lowers her head just in time to catch Killian stiffen and fail to restrain a tentative step away from Mary Margaret. Emma darts forward and intercepts the attempted handshake by grabbing Mary Margaret's arm and exclaiming _Don't!_  

Her friends stare at her like she's possessed. 

"Emma, it's fine." Killian mumbles low, putting a warm hand on her back.

"I would rather you not touch anyone for a while. Yesterday was rough for you." Emma says over her shoulder.

"Okay, well, I didn't need to hear that." David almost shouts, like he's trying to drown out whatever else Emma had to say. He crosses his arms and finds something interesting on the wall on the other side of the kitchen. He stares at it.

"That's not what- " Emma lets go of Mary Margaret's arm to bury her face in her hands. _"Christ."_

"Really Emma, it's okay," Killian insists, taking Mary Margaret's hand that is still dangling in midair, forgotten. "Killian Jones."

Emma watches through her fingers as they shake hands, neither one showing any indication of a sudden influx of emotions. She lowers her hands around her neck in an attempt to hide the furious blush that David's comment set off.

"This here is Regina," Mary Margaret continues the introductions as if she was never interrupted. "And this is David. _David._ " she hisses his name a second time when he doesn't extend his hand.

David takes a small step forward and reaches out the rest of the way, leaning forward sharply. He shakes Killian's hand once then retreats to his former spot. Killian glances uncertainly at Emma and she just rolls her eyes in a _Don't mind him_ kind of way.

"Ignore him," Regina waves her hand dismissively at David. "He's just not used to seeing other people in this apartment."

"That's because other people aren't even supposed to _know_ about this apartment." David mutters under his breath.

"Right. I apologize for the intrusion," Killian puts a hand over his chest. "I'll leave." he nods once at Emma and starts to walk toward the front door.

"Wait," Emma chases after Killian, glaring at David when she passes him. She beats Killian to the door and stands in front of it, holding her arms out in front of her. "Please don't go. David's just being a jerk. Please."

He smiles softly at her. "He's not the reason I'm in a rush to leave, love."

"He's not?"

"Did you tell my brother where I am?" Killian asks simply.

"I…" Emma completely spaced out on doing that. "…did not."

Killian reaches into this pocket and pulls out his phone, Liam's name flashing brightly on the display. "It's the incessant buzzing that woke me. And including this, he's called four more times since then."

Emma vaguely remembers a tingling sensation when she had her hands on him but dismissed it as a consequence of the overwhelming mess of feelings that were coursing through her at the time. She stares at the screen until the call disconnects, replaced by _(11) New Voicemails_. "I didn't know how to contact him - shit, he's gonna hate me even more now."

He chuckles at that, putting his phone back in his pocket. "I actually think you're one of the few people he genuinely likes," he motions toward the door behind her. "I just have to let him know I'm not lying dead in some dingy backstreet. It's not the type of phone call I should have within earshot of people I just met. And it looks like you have some explaining of your own to do here anyway."

"But…" Emma tries to find an excuse to make him stay. They have some things to talk about themselves.

Killian comes closer and crowds her against the door. Her breath catches as she looks up at him, her eyes immediately flicking down to his lips. "We'll have time to talk about it later." he whispers low.

She hears a soft click amid the furious thumping in her chest. She looks down to find Killian's hand around the doorknob. He tugs gently, making her step right into his personal space. The absurd part of her brain urges her to laugh at the rhythmic vibration in his jacket and she only barely manages to keep it down.

He backs away, pulling the door open enough to squeeze through. "Goodbye Emma." he says with a smirk on his face then disappears outside.

—-

Emma shuts the door by leaning against it, knocking her head lightly on the wood. She couldn't hide the grin that spreads across her face. Not even when she hears her coffee maker start up again followed by a very annoyed _Seriously David?!_

She reluctantly pushes her body off the door and drags her feet back to the hushed conversation in the other room. She stands just inside the threshold between the living room and the kitchen and crosses her arms over her chest. She waits until Mary Margaret notices her disgruntled posture.

"We are _so_ sorry," she says again, and walks around the table to put her hands on Emma's shoulders. "But you never mentioned anything about seeing anyone and now you _absolutely_ _have to!"_ her voice increases in pitch as she talks, her grip on Emma becoming a tight squeeze.

"Mmm," David quickly swallows the coffee in his mouth, shaking his head. "No, you definitely don't."

Emma shrugs out of Mary Margaret's hold and retrieves her cup from David's hands. She doesn't have enough caffeine in her system to be dealing with her friends right now. "Why are you here?"

"It's Gold." Regina says without any kind of forewarning.

Emma struggles not to spit out what she's drinking. The energy in the room rapidly shifts into something more serious.

"It's just chatter, nothing for certain." Mary Margaret quickly interjects.

"Yet," Regina leans on the table in the middle of the kitchen. "He's been quiet for a long time. Just the fact that his name is out there again is not something to take lightly."

"Well, what exactly are they saying about him now?" Emma wraps her fingers tightly around her warm cup, the heat doing little to battle the chill that just went down her spine.

"From what we've heard, he's gathering followers - recruiting or something." David slides a chair closer to take a seat.

"Recruiting, for what?"

"That," Regina lifts a finger in the air. "Is unclear at this point. Like we said, nothing about this has been confirmed."

"But what's good is it doesn't sound like it has anything to do with you or any of us, right?" Mary Margaret puts a tentative smile on her face. "Maybe he's found something or someone else to hunt down."

"Or he's finally building an army to come after us because we almost rendered him immobile during our last encounter." Regina helpfully suggests. Mary Margaret glares at her in reply.

Emma frowns at the coffee slowly cooling in her hand. Something doesn't sit right with this new information. In all the time she's spent running from that man, Gold has always worked alone - he believed anyone else is just deadweight and would slow him down. Granted, Emma shattered one of his legs that for anyone else would warrant some assistance but she also did that by literally dropping an entire building on him and he came out of it with just a busted up knee and if that's not an indication of how little he relies on other people, then she's not sure what is.

"Okay, let's not jump to conclusions now, we know next to nothing at this point," David reasons. "The last thing we want is for one of us to overreact and make a mistake. Let's just keep doing what we're doing, keeping our heads down until we learn more, alright?"

Mary Margaret nods firmly in agreement but Regina tilts her head like she's unsure of something.

"What?" David's shoulders drop uncertainly.

Regina hesitates to answer. "Well…I just don't think spending most days with Angels that just came from violent altercations is the best way to 'keep our heads down.'"

They all look at Emma at the same time. She's chewing on her bottom lip, deep in thought.

"You said…he's gathering followers?" Emma asks, choosing to ignore the latter part of the conversation. "Do we know any of them?"

David glances at Regina. "There's only one other name that comes up just as much as Gold's."

Emma raises an eyebrow in question.

"Arthur."

—-

The quiet murmur of the clinic accompanies Emma as she walks down the hallway, the sound having already become a part of her every day routine despite Regina's misgivings. She smiles at Robin when they walk past each other and she feels proud when he beams back. She thought she's forgotten what it feels like to belong in a group other than her family and she's quite surprised it's that easy to remember. She opens the door to the back room and stops when she sees Liam on the couch, going through some paperwork.

His eyes snap up to her, the pen in his hand hovering over a piece of paper.

Emma starts to back away, the awkwardness between them still as palpable as the day they met - perhaps more so now that she and Killian are…what they are.

"Emma," Liam says, putting his pen down. "Come in and close the door."

She hesitates for a split-second but does as she's asked, muttering a low _uh-oh_ under her breath. What did she do wrong now?

He gestures at the chair next to him. Emma sits down tentatively, her legs already eager to stand back up and leave. She's not easily intimidated by other people but Killian's brother is a different story.

"He's worried," Liam starts without preamble. "About you." he adds when Emma's confusion translates to furrowed eyebrows.

"Worried? Why would he be worried?"

"I don't know, you tell me," Liam shrugs, the softness of his voice a little unnerving. "I just notice the way he looks at you sometimes."

"You keep an eye on how he _looks_ at me?" Emma asks in disbelief.

He raises an eyebrow at her. "Knowing what he can do, what he's been through, and how he deals with things, I keep an eye on _everything_."

She fidgets in her seat, slowly realizing there's now more than one Jones who can make her feel restless with just an earnest gaze.

Liam leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees. "Are you okay?"

That's about the last thing she expected to hear from Liam that it takes her a few seconds to reply. "Yeah. Yes, I'm fine."

He narrows his eyes at her. "I don't know a lot about you but I can tell you're lying."

She grips the armrests to keep herself from bolting out of the room. Damn these brothers and their perceptiveness.

She bites the inside of her cheek and avoids eye contact. She hasn't told anyone else about Gold resurfacing and what that means for her and her life here, now. About how it's very likely he's amassing an army of Angels. About how Arthur is probably one of them. About the possibility that Gold is the one who planted the idea of opening the Gates in the first place. Because none of it is for sure and she isn't going to start trouble where there isn't one.

"Look," Liam leans back, sensing Emma's unease. "Whatever it is, you don't have to tell me. But word of advice - keeping things from each other is not the way to start a…relationship," - Emma almost laughs at how he struggled to say the last word - "And he's not going to pressure you to tell him. He's going to wait until you're ready."

Emma nods because she knows as well that's what Killian is going to do.

"You don't have to tell him now," he continues, picking his pen up from the table to resume his work. "Just don't wait too long."

—-

Emma scratches at the corner of the label of the beer bottle in her hand. She picks at it until it lifts then peels it away from the cold glass. She flicks her fingers until it falls off and lands on the kitchen counter she's currently leaning against.

"Do you want to talk about what that bottle has done to offend you?"

She tears her eyes away from the glass and looks at Killian standing on the other side of her kitchen. He takes a sip of his coffee, having refused the beer she offered him a while ago. _(I don't like the way it makes me feel. You mean buzzed? No, I mean numb.)_

"Sorry," Emma says, putting the beer bottle on the counter. "I just have a lot on my mind right now."

"I can see that." he puts his cup down on the surface as well. 

Killian had walked her home and there was very little said on the way. She knows firsthand how observant he is when it comes to body language and maybe that's why he didn't decline Emma's invitation to come up.

"I just feel like," she puts her hands in front of her like she's trying to grab something in the air. "Like my past is catching up with me. Again."

Killian walks up and leans beside her against the counter. He puts his weight on his hands and looks up at the ceiling. "I don't think of it like that - the past will always be a part of me. It's a matter of how I let that affect who I am and what I do."

"What if it's something I don't want to be a part of me? What if I want to leave it behind?"

He looks at her when he answers. "Then you're letting it control what you do now. Instead of discovering what it is that makes you happy, you spend your time running from something you already know does not."

Emma grips the counter at how close that hits home.

"It's a hollow life to lead, simply fighting for what you already have, only striving to keep what's already yours. It's dreams that give life meaning, that give you purpose to get out bed in the morning. It's wanting _more_ out of life that makes it worth living. Is that not what you believe anymore?"

Emma frowns at him. "Maybe a lifetime ago. But I've come to learn that it's not that easy. It's simple when you put it like that, but it's a hell of a lot harder to do. You wouldn't understand."

A heavy hush descends on them, Emma glaring at a chip on a tile of the kitchen floor. She immediately regrets what she's said, wanting to take her words back but not knowing how. She recognizes it's not fair to snap at someone who has been nothing but a good listener. She strings together a hasty apology in her head and musters the courage to actually say it.

He doesn't give her the chance.

"It was her idea coming down here," Killian says, keeping his voice low. "I remember not wanting to leave. I was happy with my life up there and I did not want to give that up for…" he motions his hand around the room. "This…But when she's made up her mind, there's no changing it, and right then, I really didn't have a choice anymore."

Emma doesn't want to pose the question but she asks anyway. "What was her name?"

Killian takes a while to answer, staring at his shoes the entire time. "Milah. Her name was Milah."

She lets him take his time to continue, watching the veins in his forearms dance when he tightens his hold on the counter. She sees him work his jaw, like he's clamping down on words that are in a rush to come out. She's all too familiar with what it's like to start talking about something that's been buried deep for so long - everything is so eager to break free, as if sensing its own imminent re-imprisonment.

"We've always been told who we ought to be, what roles we need to play, what we should and shouldn't be doing. And I didn't have a problem with that, I thought it was simple, easy even. But Milah," Killian laughs softly then, like he's recalling a fond memory. "She wouldn't have any of it. She would ask me if I could be anyone, be anywhere, who would that be, where. She had such a passion for life and I found it mesmerizing."

Killian lifts his head, looking at nothing in particular. Emma stares at his profile, the beginnings of a small smile playing on his lips.

"Milah, she was an empath too. At the time we thought it'd be perfect. There would be no secrets between us, we'd always know what the other was feeling. But we soon discovered we could _change_ what others were feeling and that we could use that to help them,"

"She was always more connected to the ability, more attuned to the mass of emotions that would at times suffocate me. I asked her to stop when it became clear the feelings were too confusing, too intense,"

 Emma knows how the story ends and she doesn't fight back the tears that are starting to blur her vision.

"I think I knew I'd already lost her even before that day on the rooftop. She lost herself in the sea of emotions she willingly took on and I was well on my way myself to even find my own way back," he pauses and swallows hard, like there's literally a lump in his throat. "I will never forget the smell of her skin burning around the handle of the gun, or the sound her body made when she fell to the floor," his voice is on the verge of breaking but his eyes remain clear.

"She ran in the most permanent way possible and I almost, almost went with her. If it weren't for my brother, I…"

He looks down at the floor again and clenches his jaw.

"I swore I would never let myself feel that strongly for another. That I would never lose myself like that again."

Killian shifts to face her and waits until she makes eye contact.

"So I do in fact understand how hard it is to get back up. What it takes to not drown in the darkness and instead hang on to that last ray of sunlight. To not settle for what already is but to work for something more for yourself and maybe even for other people," he stares deep into Emma's watery eyes. "And I know you," he says firmly. "You're strong enough to do that too."

Liam's words suddenly ring loud in Emma's head. _One heartbreak almost killed him. He's not going to survive another one._

Emma closes her eyes, tears finally cascading down her cheeks. "I might not be. And I don't want to take you down with me. What about your promise to yourself? Of not letting your ability steal away who you are?" she opens them again to find him still gazing at her.

Killian smiles warmly, the kind that reaches his eyes. "You're worth me losing my mind."

A beat passes then Emma's entire body moves to kiss him that he stumbles backward as he inhales sharply through his nose. She feels it too, the overwhelming affection hitting her like a ton of bricks. It steals the breath from her lungs so she wraps her arms around his neck and holds on to him like he's air. The heat of his mouth and the grip of his fingers on her hips invades her senses until it makes her dizzy.

"I want to feel you," she whispers. "All of you."

Killian rests his forehead on hers, his breath tickling her lips. "Are you sure?"

Emma's never been more sure about anything in her life. _"Yes."_

He takes another second of indecision before crushing their lips together, his hand moving to the back of her head. He slides his tongue against hers, drawing a soft moan from the back of her throat.

Emma pushes, walking them out of the kitchen. Her skin is on fire, like his fingers are burning through her clothes. It's suddenly too hot, _too damn hot_. She breaks the kiss to pull her shirt over her head and tugs at Killian's for him to do the same. She leaves him barely any room to maneuver, making him stumble over his feet as he struggles to take his clothes off in the little space between them. He staggers, moving backward blindly.

She grabs his face again before his shirt even hits the floor. They lose their shoes the rest of the way, knocking a few things off of some tables they bump into along their haphazard trail, landing with a dull thud on the carpet.

Killian grabs her by the arms and crowds her against the closest door. He moves his lips across her jaw to lick behind her ear then kisses the length of her neck all the way down to her collarbone. Emma loses track of which door she's pressed up against - she prays it's the bedroom as she feels around for the doorknob.

They almost tumble to the floor when she twists the door open, their feet shuffling to maintain balance until she backs into the bed. She shoves him back and tugs at his jeans. His fingers move quickly to unbutton his pants and she undoes her own before kicking them off.

They fall to the bed in a tangle of limbs and a brief struggle follows before Emma wraps her legs around his waist and pushes, putting Killian on his back. She catches his _oof!_ in her mouth and runs her hands down his body. He urgently pulls away from the kiss and heaves a deep breath like he's _dying_. His grip on her hips tightens, like he can't decide whether he wants to pull her closer or push her off.

Every inch of skin in contact sends a tickle down her spine, like there's a constant hum of electricity moving between them. Her chest feels full and only swells even more with each passing second. There's a blackness at the edge of her vision, threatening to crawl all the way to the center and steal her consciousness away before anything even happens. And there's simply no way she's going to let it.

She buries her face in his neck and breathes him in then leaves a trail of kisses past his chest, down his stomach. Emma hears Killian's breath hitch and when she takes him into her mouth, his breathing loses all rhythm. He throws an arm over his face while the other hand grabs onto a fistful of sheets. He pants, doesn't make any other kind of noise apart from the urgent _Fuck!_ when Emma hollows her cheeks.

She pulls off with a soft pop and climbs back up to move his arm away from his face. He opens his eyes and Emma swallows thickly at the sight. She brushes her lips over his again and he leans forward to give her a proper kiss. She shivers when he runs his fingers down her back, a new burst of emotion with every shift of his fingertips.

Killian keeps his eyes on hers when she moves, adjusting her position over him. She puts one hand on his chest to steady herself before sinking down, down, down. He arches off the bed with a loud gasp, his eyes squeezed shut. He holds his breath and Emma knows then what he's doing.

"Killian."

He breathes out and back in in almost the same second that there's no way he actually put air back in his lungs. He opens his eyes and blinks furiously at the ceiling. His back is still a good inch off the mattress so Emma calls his name again, cupping his face in her hands.

"Killian."

He looks at her now, his unfocused eyes struggling to maintain contact. A strangled sound escapes from his throat and he closes his eyes again.

_"Killian."_

In the exact moment he finally relaxes into the bed, a tidal wave of emotions slams into Emma, like someone just dunked her entire body in water. There is no air to breathe, no sound to make nor hear, an invisible force pushing against her on all sides, caressing every part of her. She plants both arms on either side of his head when she lurches forward, almost falling on his face. He looks like he wants to say something but can't find enough air to do so.

Emma leans down and brings their lips together, moving her hips as she does. Killian puts one hand on her thigh and the other between her shoulder blades, returning the kiss in earnest. She whimpers softly against his mouth and quickens her pace. Her vision starts to swim and the ringing in her ears gets louder, louder. She hears his harsh breathing in the middle of all of it, like it's the only sound she's ever known, the only sound she ever wants to hear again.

Then everything shifts. _Everything_. From the tingling on the tips of her ears, to the massive weight in her chest, to the burning in her thighs, to the prickling in her toes. They all travel to one place, like they all suddenly knew at the same time that it's where they needed to be. And Emma has to dig her nails in whatever part of Killian she's holding onto to keep her sanity, to remember forever what's about to happen.

They come together in one explosive instant and it feels like time stills around them. Everything else fades from view and all she knows is the feeling of his skin against hers, the steady thrum of deep affection beating against her chest. In that moment there is nothing else but the two of them and she wishes for the next second to never arrive.

When it finally does, she sobs and falls on Killian's chest. He wraps his arms tightly around her, keeping a hand behind her head, his thumb tracing small circles behind her ear. She closes her eyes and commits to memory the steady rise and fall of his chest and the rhythmic beating of his heart. 


	6. Chapter 6

"Okay, hey, you gotta calm down." Emma keeps her voice low despite the loud, angry yelling from the man in front of her.

He was brought in by a woman five minutes ago, bleeding from his shoulder from a gunshot wound. He was already complaining then about how they didn't need to be there, how he can patch himself up on his own. She was halfway through convincing him to stay when Robin walks up to them and offers his assistance. That's when the guy shot up from his chair and started shouting, refusing any kind of help from _these people_.

The woman he's with also tries to reason with him but he's adamant on leaving. He holds onto his injured shoulder and stalks toward the exit, bumping into Emma hard on the way that she stumbles a few steps back.

"Damn it Greg, why do you have to be so stubborn?" the woman raises her voice now too, marching after him.

"What's going on here?" Liam makes his way over to them, Killian following close behind.

"Look at this place! Look at all the winged Angels coming in and out of those doors, the Dark ones walking around, _helping_. I will not be indebted to _anyone_ in this goddamn place." he swings his bloody hand in a wide arc, making a mess on the floor.

"They are here because they want to be." Liam clarifies, backing away to avoid the splatter. "We don't discriminate here, anyone and everyone is welcome."

"Oh how very thoughtful of you, doing all of this from the goodness of your hearts," the man replies sarcastically, only a few paces away from the exit. He spins around to add, "But don't think that changes anything between us, in spite of what this traitor may have led you to believe." he jerks his head in Emma's direction then resumes his walk through the doors.

Killian very visibly scowls and follows him outside, moving toward the guy in wide strides. He puts his hand on the man's uninjured shoulder to make him turn back around.

Even Emma didn't see the punch coming, the guy's bloody fist connecting with Killian's jaw when he pivots, the momentum knocking Killian to the floor.

_"Don't fucking touch me."_ the man seethes, standing over Killian.

The words have barely left the guy's lips when Emma pushes him face-first against the wall and twists his bad arm behind his back.

"Jesus, lady!" he yells, his words muffled by the fact that half his face is pressed up against the brick surface.

"Swan." Liam calls her name but makes no effort to stop what she's doing.

"We are trying to help you here," Emma hisses, pulling another groan from him when she twists harder. "But we don't have to put up with your bigotry."

She releases his hold on him and steps back, pinning him in place with a wrathful glare.

"Come on, let's just go." the woman drags him away.

He keeps his eyes on Emma as they leave, like he's memorizing her face. Then the woman shoves him in a car and peels off.

Emma turns around to find Killian still sitting on the floor, Liam crouched down beside him. His lip is torn and he has blood on his face, most of which isn't his.

"Are you okay?" she asks, bending down herself.

"He _really_ doesn't like us." he says in reply, his forehead creased as if he's still fighting the surge of emotions that undoubtedly hit him when the punch did.

"He's a self-righteous asshole." she keeps herself from touching him, not wanting to confuse him with more foreign feelings.

"Get yourself cleaned up little brother." Liam claps Killian's back before making his way into the clinic.

Killian hangs his head, still disgruntled by the nickname judging by his heavy sigh. But he picks himself up and dusts his clothes off anyway.

" _I_ was supposed to defend _your_ honor, not the other way around." he tries to smile when he says that and instead ends up wincing at his split lip. He wipes some of the blood off his jaw with his bare knuckles.

"You know what they say," Emma pulls his arm down by the elbow to keep him from scrubbing at his cut. "It's the thought that counts."

Killian looks at her like he's about to kiss her, split lip be damned but his eyes snap up to the street behind her at the sound of a car screeching from around the corner.

She faces the same direction and immediately takes the few steps to the curb at the familiar sight of David's truck skidding to a halt right in front of them.

"Emma!" Mary Margaret throws the backseat door open before the tires even squeal to a stop.

"What happened?" Emma pulls the car door as far as it would open and pales when she sees David crumpled into the backseat with Mary Margaret, the hilt of a large knife sticking out of his gut.

Regina hops out of the driver's seat and runs around the hood of the car. "We got jumped by a couple of Angels. It all happened so fast - the next thing I know…" she trails off.

Emma stands frozen in place, suddenly at a loss on what to do. She feels strong hands wrap around her arms and pull her away from the truck.

"Find my brother."

Emma blinks and remembers how to breathe.

"Emma. Find my brother." Killian repeats over his shoulder as he helps Mary Margaret pull David out of the car.

Emma spins on her heels and runs back inside, the loud thumping in her chest drowning out the heavy stomp of her boots on the floor. She stumbles to a stop just past the door and looks around, the vastness of the place making itself known at that very moment. So she does the only thing she thinks might help. "Liam!"

She takes off to the right and bursts into a couple of rooms but no sign of Liam - or any other healer for that matter. _Fuck._ She goes down another hallway, still yelling, almost laughing at how comically possible it is to find who she's looking for at the very last place she decides to look.

Just as she closes the door on another room she barged in on, someone grabs her elbow and leads her down the corridor. "Stop shouting, you're scaring the other patients."

Emma whips around at Liam's voice, relief washing down but not entirely settling over her. "Oh thank god. Someone needs your help."

"Yes, everyone heard."

They make their way back to the front door, emerging just in time to meet Killian carrying an almost-unconscious David into the clinic. Liam drapes the other arm over his shoulder and helps his brother move him into the closest room. They set him down gently on the bed, careful not to jostle the blade.

David groans loudly - angrily - as he lays down and Emma thinks it's his way of keeping himself awake. Mary Margaret has both her hands over her mouth, oblivious of the fact that she's just stained her face with David's blood. Regina wraps her arms around her and holds her back, giving space to the people that can actually do something to save him.

"You _can_ save him, right?" Emma hears her voice tremble and she grips the railing at the foot of the bed as hard as she can.

Liam cuts David's shirt to have a better look, ignoring Emma's question. David appears to have grown impatient at all the looking, making a grab for the knife himself.

Liam catches his wrist midair. "Do not touch it." he warns through gritted teeth.

David drops his arm at his side with a frustrated yell.

Emma watches helplessly as Liam spends a full minute just examining the wound, _why the hell does he not just pull the damn thing out and heal him_ coming out as a distressed _"Liam."_

"I," Liam starts, not bothering to hide the irritation in his voice. "Am trying to make sure he does not immediately die when I take this out before I have the chance to actually heal him."

Emma bites her tongue and holds the railing tighter, wondering if it's possible for her to leave grooves with the way she's clutching it.

"Okay," Liam looks at David's face and puts a hand on his shoulder. "I am going to pull and it is going to hurt."

"Just fucking do it." David grits out and takes a deep breath. Then his head swivels to the other side, brows drawn together in confusion.

Emma follows his line of sight and sees Killian's hand wrapped firmly around David's forearm. She releases her death grip on the railing and moves to the side, stands right behind Killian.

"It's okay." he whispers, to whom, Emma's not sure.

Liam carefully pulls the blade out and sets it on a nearby table. Emma's certain he notices how David doesn't even flinch because Liam's eyes flick in his brother's direction. He raises his hand over the bloody tear in David's stomach and heals him.

David's face changes from bewilderment to relief in a span of ten seconds. Killian and Liam move away at the same time, Mary Margaret taking it as her cue to rush to the bed and and cradle David's head in her hands. 

"You're okay?" she asks, tears still running down her face.

"I'm okay." David reassures her, rubbing his thumb over her cheeks.

They share a couple of kisses, not caring who else is in the room. Liam shifts awkwardly where he stands but doesn't clear his throat, which Emma believes took a lot of effort from him.

Mary Margaret suddenly turns around and wraps her arms tight around Killian's waist. She says _thank you_ over and over again completely oblivious to how both Emma and Liam jerk toward them. Killian just smiles and returns the hug.

"He'll need some rest," Liam motions at David. "So stay here as long as you need- " he gets cut off by Mary Margaret's embrace.

"We will never forget this." she promises, eyes welling up again.

"We're just doing our jobs," Liam says, already moving to the door, bloody knife in hand. "Get some rest." he reminds David as he leaves.

"I'll leave you to your privacy." Killian backs away and puts his hand on the doorknob to swing it closed.

"Killian," Emma chases after him before he could shut the door. "I…thank you. For what you did for him." she tentatively puts her hand on his jaw, where an angry bruise is already starting to form.

He doesn't move away and even leans into the touch. She brushes her thumb over the swollen lip.

"It's no trouble, love," he puts his hand over hers and pulls it down. "Like my brother said, it's our duty to help people."

Emma's chest tightens as Killian gives her a small smile then walks away. She can't tell whether it's because of the way her heart swells when she thinks of him or because in the back of her mind, she can already feel something dreadful is about to happen.

—-

It only took the universe a week to prove Emma right.

She spends five minutes looking for Killian in the clinic before fishing her phone out of her jeans to just call him to ask him where he is. She glimpses Liam in one of the rooms she passes but sees he's with a patient so she decides against disturbing him. Her thumb hovers over the call button when she registers who is in there with Liam.

She backpedals and cranes her neck to look back at the person sitting on the edge of the bed - she'd recognize that mop of hair from any angle. She trips over her feet and practically stumbles into the room.

Killian's head jerks in her direction and quickly looks back at his brother. "You said she wasn't here." he whispers angrily.

"She wasn't when you asked." Liam says calmly, his gloved hand tightening around Killian's forearm to keep him from moving.

"What happened?" Emma walks around the bed and immediately reaches out when she sees the blood on Killian's face, starting from his brow all the way down his neck. A lone butterfly bandage above his eye is holding his skin together.

He instinctively cringes away, Liam having to squeeze hard and hiss _Stay still._

She tries to come closer again but Killian actually puts his other hand up to stop her.

"I'm fine love, it looks a lot worse than it is." he assures her, the expression on his face not entirely convincing.

"What happened?" she asks again, now seeing the large patch of bruise on his bare torso, and his left arm on a table, his hand resting there in an odd angle. His lip didn't even have the chance to heal properly. She clenches her hands into fists to keep them at her side.

Killian and Liam share a look and it took everything for Emma not to yell in frustration at that moment.

"I ran into Arthur," Killian finally says, choosing to look at what his brother is doing instead of Emma. "He's still sore over our last encounter."

She frowns. "The warehouse? Why would he be mad at you for that?"

"I did foil his plans of bringing Merlin over to his side." he locks eyes with her then.

"That wasn't you, that was Merlin's choice." she replies simply, not understanding at all.

"Clearly he doesn't see it that way."

Emma stares deep into his eyes until he breaks eye contact. "There's something you're not telling me."

The brothers share another look and this time, Emma couldn't keep from throwing her hands in the air.

Killian rubs the back of his neck with his uninjured hand and heaves a sigh. "He…he said a few choice words…about, well…" he motions in her direction then puts his hand on his knee, Emma noticing the angry red marks on his knuckles.

Her tense shoulders fall and the corner of her mouth twitches upward. He wouldn't meet her eyes again so she moves to sit next to him on the bed.

He quickly scoots away as much as Liam would let him, ignoring his brother's _I am going to strap this arm down on this table if you do not stop moving._ Killian tightens his hold on his knee.

"Did you throw the first punch?" Emma asks, kind of hoping that he did hit Arthur first.

"No," he shakes his head. "But I did break his nose."

She grins at him and brings her hand up to touch his face.

He jerks his head down and away again, already knowing what she's trying to do. "You don't have to do that."

"I know." she cups his face, his stubble grazing against her palm. She doesn't feel different so she lifts his chin to make him look at her. She rubs her thumb across his cheekbone until he relaxes under her touch, his grip on his knee starting to slacken. A dull ache starts from her fingertips and cascades down her arms in tendrils, unraveling across her chest.

Killian closes his eyes, breathes deep, and leans into her hands.

In that moment, looking at his blissful and bloodied face, Emma realizes how deeply she cares for him. How he's her last thought when she falls asleep staring at the night sky outside her window, and the first one when the sun rays filter in and coax her eyes open. She finds herself always wanting to make him smile just as much as he does for her, to hear the rumble of his laughter. She yearns for his touch, the warmth of his skin against hers, no matter what else comes with it.

He pulls gently on her elbow, and tucks her hands back in her lap. He squeezes once, thanks her with his eyes.

Liam clears his throat, making Emma jump a little off the bed. "It's not broken but you're going to have to wear a splint for a while," he raises an eyebrow when Killian makes a face. "Maybe not break your fall with it the next time you decide to get in a fight."

"Thanks, I'll try that." he replies sarcastically.

They continue to bicker like that as Liam secures Killian's wrist with great difficulty _(I can do it by myself. With one hand and blood in your eye?)_

She suddenly wonders what she would be doing right at this moment if she hadn't met Killian. What her life would be like if he hadn't brought her to this place, hadn't met these people. How different things would be if he hadn't helped her shake off the Angels chasing her that day.

Emma then decides that picking that purse off the floor was the best decision she's made in a long, long time. 

—-

"What are you thinking about?" Mary Margaret bumps her with her hip, intrigue written all over her face.

"What?" Emma moves away from the sink where she'd been standing for probably the last ten minutes.

Mary Margaret eyes her suspiciously. " _Who_ are you thinking about?" she rephrases, mischievous glint in her eye.

"Nothing. No one." Emma answers too quickly, which only proves she _is_ thinking about something, someone.

Mary Margaret's mouth stretches into a wide grin, like she's just discovered a secret.

"Shut up." Emma stalks away from the kitchen and joins the others in the living room.

Mary Margaret follows her, almost - Emma swears it - _skipping_ the entire way. "I think he's wonderful."

"He saved David's life, of course you'd think that." Emma replies over her shoulder.

"How is he?" Mary Margaret either did not hear what Emma said or just ignored it altogether. "Last time I saw him, he looked like he could have used a healer too."

"Who are we talking about?" David says from the couch, lowering the volume of the television.

"Emma's boyfriend- "

"He's not my- "

"That guy from the clinic, you know, the one with the accent." Mary Margaret talks over Emma's half-hearted protests.

"The healer?" David clarifies, face scrunched up like he's having a hard time remembering. He was dying at the time after all.

"No the other one."

"Oh." David's eyes drift down to his hand as he closes it around a handful of air.

"So?" Mary Margaret resumes her grilling. "Tell us!"

Emma sighs and hangs her head. It's actually a miracle her friends (Mary Margaret) have been able to wait this long to ask her about him given their (her) incessant meddling. Emma's sure she's been holding this in since their accidental first meeting in her kitchen.

"He's fine," Emma wanted to keep her answer short but Mary Margaret motions for her to go on. "A little more banged up than you last saw him but he's fine."

"Why, what happened?" Regina joins in on the interrogation now.

"Arthur happened." Emma doesn't hide the anger in her voice when he says the name.

"Arthur?" David sits up, face changing into a more serious expression. "They know each other?"

Emma hesitates. She immediately regrets mentioning Arthur, suddenly remembering who his possible current associate is. "They're not friends." she chooses to say instead.

"But they know each other," David confirms, leaning forward in his seat. "Emma, that's too close."

Emma bristles at that, feeling defensive. "We don't even know for sure if Gold _is_ working with Arthur. And he doesn't know who I am."

"Not yet," Regina chimes in. "Has he seen you?"

Emma once again answers a different question. "Arthur doesn't know my name. He doesn't know who I am, let alone who's after me. We don't even know if he still is. We don't know a lot of things."

"But we do know when it's getting too dangerous. We already got ambushed - by amateurs yes -" David adds quickly when Emma opens her mouth to say something in protest. "And this," he puts his index finger on the table. "This is too damn risky."

Emma rises to her feet, too restless and riled up to be sitting down. She can already feel where this conversation is headed and no, she refuses to let it get there, for anyone to say it out loud. "No." is all she manages to say, violently shaking her head.

"Emma," Mary Margaret holds one of her shaking hands. "If Gold _is_ still looking for you, if he finds out he's this close, if he knows who to ask…He is going to do it and he's not going to do it nicely."

Emma looks at her friends, can see how genuinely sorry they are at how things suddenly turned. She asks them to give her some time to think, which they oblige without further objections. Then she stumbles into her room, overwhelmed by the thoughts racing in her head, the deafening sound of her heart thumping wildly against her chest.

The rational part of her mind agrees with David - this is the kind of thing that would make them pack up and leave, start over in a place far away from here. It's never been a problem for her, the priority was always to keep herself and her friends hidden. It's always been easy to throw her life in a bag, get in David's truck, and never look back.

But then again she's never really had a reason to stay.

She doesn't get any sleep that night. She just watches the dark sky change colors, the sun unwelcome for the first time in months.

—-

Emma takes her time walking to the clinic, going the entire way on foot that when she finds herself standing before its familiar doors, her calves are already burning. She keeps her hands in her coat pockets and stares angrily at her boots, as if they've dragged her there against her will. She's not sure how long she stands there, only moving when someone else needed to get inside. She takes a deep breath and steps through the doors, something cold and ugly forming at the pit of her stomach. 

She navigates the hallways, checking each room quickly - no one is ever sure where Killian is, he always seems to be in some random patient's room at any time. She always finds him eventually though.

"Hello, love." Or sometimes he finds her. 

Emma backpedals to the supply closet, where Killian is currently rifling through the shelves, splinted hand clumsily pushing things around. She stands by the doorway, putting her hands on the door jamb. "Hey."

"I could have sworn we still had clean bed sheets in here." he says, ducking his head into one of the lower racks.

Emma doesn't say anything, just watches him reach blindly into back of the shelf. She smiles at how normal he looks doing that, how _human_. He comes up empty, sighing in defeat. He walks over to her and Emma, distracted by the thoughts racing through her head, lets him kiss her.

She instantly regrets it when she sees his face fall, eyebrows drawn together in concern.

"Is something the matter?" he asks, reaching out to cup her face.

Emma avoids it by twisting around to close the door behind her. "I need to talk to you."

"Okay." He takes a few steps back to make room for her. 

Emma can hear the unease in his tone. This is one of the few times where she finds his ability very inconvenient. She tucks her hair behind her ears while she searches for the words to tell him, while she gathers enough courage to go through with what she's about to do.

Killian waits for her patiently and it almost changes her mind. Almost. 

"I can't…do this anymore."

The look of shock on his face is like a punch in the gut. She would double over if she wasn't trying so hard to keep her wits about her. _This is for the best_ , she reminds herself, still not as convinced as she would like to be if she's actually doing this. 

He opens his mouth but the words don't come. But Emma already knows what he's struggling to say - his eyes have always done most of the talking for him. So she avoids looking at them entirely, choosing to stare at the spot on the wall behind his head.

"It's just too much for me right now." She lies through her teeth. If she's putting him through this, she's going to do it properly by not giving him a reason to hope for a different ending. This needs to be a clean break - for his sake.

He blinks, like he can't quite process what she's saying and Emma's chest hurts at the sight.

She couldn't keep herself from taking a small step forward. She fights the tears that begin to pool in her eyes when he steps back, his arm halfway up between them, as if he can't decide if she wants to keep her back or let her come closer. His injured hand is clenched into a tight fist and she's certain that's the least painful thing he's feeling right now. He stands frozen like that, stuck between disbelief and confusion. 

For a split second Emma wishes she could take the last five minutes back, she can't be the one to put that look on his face. _This is for the best_ , she tells herself again - maybe if she repeats it enough times, she can pretend to be okay with it.

"I'm sorry." In a moment of weakness, she reaches out and touches his outstretched hand. It just takes her fingertips brushing against his palm for the surge of emotions to hit her like a ton of bricks, making her struggle to take a proper breath. 

_"Don't."_ Killian hisses, violently jerking his hand out of her grasp and backing right into the wall.

Emma clutches her chest, her knees buckling at the intensity of the feelings coursing through her body. The tears fall uncontrollably and she covers her mouth to keep a sob from escaping. She glances at Killian's blurry figure, his back against the wall in the shadow of the dimly lit closet. He keeps his head down, his dark hair falling over his eyes.

She pulls herself together and wipes angrily at the tears that have stained her cheeks. She sniffs, prepares to say something, anything that would help alleviate the hurt he's feeling. The words escape her.

"Just go." He whispers, not lifting his head at all.

Emma finds herself taking another step closer and it breaks her heart to see him press himself harder against the wall, like a cornered animal.

"Please." His voice breaks then.

Her feet refuse to move, a last ditch effort by the emotional part of her brain to tell her she's making a mistake. She listens to the logical part though, forcing herself to back away slowly.

"I'm sorry." She says again before turning around and placing a trembling hand on the doorknob. She opens the door before she changes her mind, compelling her legs to walk out of the room. She shuts the door to allow him some time and space to himself. She stands just outside the supply closet for a while, trying to hear any kind of sound from inside.

She leaves without hearing anything, the silence following her as she treads down the hallway and out of the clinic.

—-

Mary Margaret wraps her arms around Emma as they curl up on the couch. "Oh, honey…"

Emma has already cried her eyes out, evidenced by the coffee table littered with Kleenex. She's fresh out of tears and is currently letting her best friend hold her while she waits for a fresh wave of sadness to hit her. She's sure there's another one coming.

She's still torn between dreading tomorrow and leaving this town and everyone living here, and looking forward to it, to put as much distance as possible between her and that clinic. Because Mary Margaret's embrace is about the only thing keeping her form marching back in there and retracting everything she's said yesterday. _It's for the best_ , she thinks, repeating her mantra over and over again.

She listens to David move around her kitchen, no doubt cooking her another meal she'd end up not eating. But she's grateful for the company, for her friends keeping her together just like the last time - just like they always do. She closes her eyes while Mary Margaret strokes her hair. Maybe she can finally get some sleep.

Emma feels herself drifting into a much awaited slumber when someone bursts through the door, yanking her back into consciousness.

_"Regina!"_ she hears Mary Margaret whisper angrily.

Emma cracks an eye open to see Regina come around the couch and stand in front of them, hands on her hips.

"We have a problem," she announces, the urgency in her voice enough to make Emma sit up. "We can't leave. Not now."

"What is it?" David walks up to stand behind the couch.

"Gold knows," Regina utters the two words and they make little sense to Emma. "He _knows_ , Emma." she adds when it becomes clear Emma doesn't understand. Because that's exactly the point - if Gold knows, then all the more reason to disappear, and fast.

"How?" Mary Margaret asks after a beat, not taking her arm off Emma's shoulders.

"That idiot Greg," Regina says the name like it's the dirtiest word that ever came out of her mouth. "He apparently remembers you from the clinic and ratted you out. I knew that place was too high profile."

Emma still cannot make sense of what Regina is saying.

David puts his hands on the back of the couch and leans forward. "Where did you hear this?"

"Emma's got friends on the other side, I've got some on ours. I didn't totally tune out Angel radio unlike some people." Regina looks pointedly at Mary Margaret.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Emma interrupts Mary Margaret's reply to the insult. "Who's Greg?"

"Tall, skinny guy, barely any hair left on his head. Has some anger management issues?" Regina tries to remind her. "He told Gold about you and Killian - about how there's a _you and Killian_. Or used to be. The point is Gold might now know where you are but he now knows someone who does."

The information finally sinks in and a cold shiver runs down Emma's spine. She recalls who Greg is - she'll never forget the face and now she'll always remember the name.

"He punched Killian in the face. I may have overreacted a little bit when I twisted his arm and threw him against the wall."

"Emma." David chides with a disapproving sigh.

"Well, it already happened what do you want me to do?" Emma snaps irritably, jumping up from her seat. She begins to pace the living room.

"What _do_ you want to do?" Regina asks, watching Emma burn a hole in her carpet.

Emma doesn't answer immediately. She tries to anticipate what Gold would do, if there's any way Killian will come out of this situation unscathed. But Gold is not the problem, Killian is. She's sure, even after recent events, he's not going to tell Gold anything and that's what's going to get him hurt - or worse.

This is the exact situation she wanted to avoid but it happened anyway. She has to warn Killian.

She grabs David's phone from the coffee table and hands it to him. "Call Killian."

His eyebrows go up in surprise. "What? Why me?"

Emma puts the phone in his hand. "I can't do it," _I can't hear his voice again._ "He won't answer if it's me. You have to do it."

"And you think he'll answer if it's me?" David looks at Mary Margaret then Regina, waiting for someone to support his counterargument. Neither one does. "Fine." He relents, dialing Killian's number.

Emma waits impatiently, crossing her arms over her chest to keep her fingers from twitching. She already has a sinking feeling and she really needs Killian to answer the phone _right now_.

"I'm getting his voicemail," David says, shaking his head. "Let me try again."

Emma feels her pulse quicken and her hands go cold. Something terrible is going to happen, she can _feel_ it. She goes around the couch and snags David's phone right out of his hands when he doesn't connect a second time. Emma ignores the _Hey!_ when she does.

She calls Killian's number again and presses the phone against her ear. He should be home by now, he should be picking up his damn phone. Her heart hammers with every unanswered ring and she outright curses when she hears his outgoing message. "Shit."

She shoves the phone back in David's hands. "Keep trying until you get a hold of him."

"Emma," Mary Margaret follows Emma to the other side of the room. "Emma, be smart about this. We've managed to evade him all this time, we can do it again. There's too much at stake here."

Emma climbs out of her apartment window and into the building's fire exit. She clambers up the railing, planting her feet on the narrow iron fence. She turns her head at the insistent _Emma_ from the window, Mary Margaret's entire upper body leaning out.

"I've got nothing left to lose," she declares, putting her hand on the wall for balance. "I lost it all when I met him." She looks down at the street below and in the next second, steps off the railing.

For a moment Emma thought she is going to fall six stories and break every bone in both her legs but muscle memory takes over. She stretches her wings and catches flight right before she hits the pavement.


	7. Chapter 7

Emma rounds a corner sharply, the tips of her wings brushing against the brick wall as she starts to descend. Killian's apartment building is already coming into view and she does some quick math in her head to work out which window is his.

She had every intention to slide open said window and climb in carefully but she abandons that plan when she catches sight of Gold through the glass, standing in the middle of Killian's living room. She finds  Killian a second later, a good few feet away from Gold. She crosses her arms over her face and lifts her legs to her chest as she comes closer. She kicks hard, bursting through the window and rolling on the floor, crunching some pieces of glass when she does.

 _"Bloody hell."_ Killian swears, backing away from the flying debris from Emma's graceful entrance. His tone changes completely when he realizes who just flew though his window. "What are you doing here?" he hisses urgently.

She refuses to look at him and instead scrambles to her feet to face Gold, standing between him and Killian. "Your fight is with me." Emma says, trying to hide just how out of breath she is.

"Emma." Killian calls her name from behind her. She feels his hand on her arm, pulling gently.

She takes two steps forward, away from his reach. "Stay out of this. Please."

"I should have known _a boy_ will make you slither out of your hiding place," Gold says through a clenched jaw. Emma's sure the hand behind his back is curled into a fist with the other gripping his cane so tight his knuckles are white. "He meant that little to you did he? That you replaced him so easily."

 _I did not replace him_ came out as "He's not a replacement," she swallows thickly. "He has nothing to do with this, you will leave him alone."

She hears Killian whisper her name again. She pretends she doesn't hear him, choosing to run down scenarios in her head and formulate an exit plan - for both of them.

"No, dearie," Gold's lips turn up into a sinister smile. "It's you who will be leaving him alone."

Then things happen very fast. His words are only starting to sink in when an arm wraps around her waist and pulls her back. She sees Gold's arm move from behind his back, a glint of silver catching light from the low sun outside. Her shoulders hit the wall hard, a warm hand holding her upper arm to steady her. The other slams against the space just beside her right ear. Emma suddenly thinks that at this rate, that wrist will never heal the way it's supposed to.

Killian's momentum almost makes him barrel right into her but he manages to brace himself just before he does. Emma loses her breath from crashing against the wall, not from the blue eyes she's been craving to stare into since she left them crestfallen in a dark supply closet.

Gunshots echo in the air loudly but she doesn't blink. It's followed by a clatter of metal falling to the floor.

"His bullets won't work on me." Killian explains softly, like she's forgotten how Angel weapons operate.

"A Light Angel playing hero, how very typical." Gold lowers his gun as he strides toward them.

Killian spins around, this time being the one standing between Emma and Gold. The words _Killian, don't be stupid_ barely leave her mouth when three sets of feet land on the broken glass, one after the other.

David fires once on the floor, inches away from Gold's leather shoes. Then he aims his gun on Gold's forehead. "The next one will make you hurt if you don't back the fuck away, I promise you."

Mary Margaret holds her crossbow steady, already fixed on Gold. Regina changes her grip on her dagger then raises her arm in front of her chest.

"And the bodyguards arrive just in time to save the day," Gold looks at them long and hard, seemingly calculating his odds of facing off against three winged and armed Angels. Then he relaxes his stance and faces Emma, making Killian move in front of her. "We'll see each other again, Miss Swan."

In the next second he vanishes but her friends keep their weapons trained in midair. The sound of glass crunching behind them makes them turn around quickly. A piece of the window that's still dangling from the corner swings wildly before crashing to the floor as well.

Regina sticks her head out the shattered window and looks out to the street below. "He still only has the one ability, right? So he can only do the invisible thing - he didn't suddenly have the power to teleport?" she asks out loud, then raises her head to look up to the sky. She ducks back inside when she sees no sign of Gold.

"I could have really used my super speed just then." David mumbles to no one in particular.

"You lot get to keep your wings, we get to keep our abilities." Killian snaps irritably, crossing his arms over his chest. He's moved away from Emma and is trying his damnedest to not look at her.

"Killian- " Emma starts.

"He was going to kill you. Whatever's gone down between us, I wasn't just going to let it happen." he stares at the glass on the floor when he says that.

Emma's vaguely aware of Mary Margaret shuffling the rest of her friends to the next room. A tense hush falls on them, the sound of the street outside being the only reminder that no, she has not gone deaf.

Their uncanny ability to break such a silence at the same time presents itself again.

"You shouldn't have come here."

"I'm sorry."

His eyes snap up to meet hers and her heart breaks all over again at the glimmer of hope she sees in them.

She takes a step toward him, one that he matches by taking one back and away. She takes another and so does he as he uncrosses his arms, keeping the same space between them. She comes closer and closer still, until he backs right into the table at the edge of the room. She takes the momentary distraction where he steadies the desk lamp that threatens to topple over to finally cover the distance in one wide stride.

She reaches up to touch his face but he catches her in time, the splint around his wrist digging into Emma's arm.

"Don't."

"You keep saying that but is that what you really want?" she whispers, challenging him to say out loud what's abundantly clear in his fiery eyes.

He gazes at her, the look so intense that she's half-expecting them both to burst into flames any second. "Is this what _you_ want?"

And really, she should know by now how incredibly masterful he is at keeping his own feelings to himself while making others realize their own. She swallows thickly, her hand still hovering in midair between them, his fingers wrapped tightly around her forearm. She hesitates for too long, struggles too much with saying that one simple word that he breaks eye contact and starts to pull her arm down.

Emma lurches closer, stands right in Killian's personal space, barely a sliver of sunlight between them. The new angle makes it difficult for him to move his arm any further but he doesn't let go, just holds on to her like he's afraid she's going to disappear. He moves his head back on instinct, his startled breath ghosting over her forehead, blowing some of the stray hair away from her face.

"I'm not good with words," she starts, reaching for his face again. "But I want you to know what I really want, how I really feel."

He doesn't stop her this time and lets her put her hand on his cheek. He just stares at her, the anger and hurt still dancing around in his eyes.

Emma brings her other arm up and cradles Killian's face in both of her hands. She rubs her thumbs over his cheekbones, like she's wiping away tears she's never seen fall. "Please."

It hits him hard. He grabs on to the table behind him with both hands, rocking it again with the suddenness of his hold. This time the desk lamp falls to the floor but no one minds the crashing sound it makes when it hits the ground. He rests his forehead against hers and takes a deep breath.

She closes her eyes and tries to tell him wordlessly how sorry she is that she hurt him, how stupid it was of her to even think that was the only solution to her problem. She tries to tell him how thankful she is that he's in her life, and how she's sure now that she wants to keep it that way. She tries to tell him that he's the best thing that has happened to her in either Heaven or Earth.

Emma thinks Killian got all of that because he suddenly kisses her, intense and passionate. He pulls her closer still, his arms wrapping around her like he has no plans of letting her go again. She keeps her hands on his face and shifts his head a little to deepen the kiss. She loses her breath when she realizes how much she missed the feel of his lips against hers, of his tongue sliding into her mouth. She got very close to never feeling this again and she almost cries at just the thought of how hollow that would leave her.

She reluctantly pulls away because she needs to say it, to let the words she's been so afraid to say, pass through her lips.

Killian puts his head down, avoiding her gaze. "I know." he suddenly says, voice low.

For a split-second Emma thinks she might have already said it out loud but is pretty sure she hasn't because she has yet to find her voice in the swell of emotions currently filling her chest.

"And I know you know…I do too." Killian puts his hands on her wrists and rubs circles over her knuckles.

The thing is, she does. It dawns on her know how she's known for a while. With every look that he gives her when he thinks she doesn't notice, every time he smiles the secret smile he's reserved for her. With every step he takes for her when he walks her home, every time his eyes light up when he sees her. With every laugh he lets out when she says something unfunny, every time he says her name just because he wants to.

She finally sees how he doesn't need to touch her to let her know how he feels. That there are so many other ways to do just that, so many little things that go unnoticed but once realized, has the most impact.

Emma finds her voice but doesn't say anything. She simply lifts his head so their eyes can meet, and smiles.

—-

They each take a seat in Killian's kitchen after having decided that staying put and coming up with a plan is the most reasonable next step. Killian's voice is the only sound in the room - well, his and Liam's tinny voice through the phone, every word audible from where Emma is seated _(What the fuck, Killian)_.

Killian started the phone call sitting properly in the chair but have been steadily inching to the edge with every rise in volume of his brother's voice on the other end. Emma's heard him say _I'm fine_ at least five times, which only seems to agitate Liam more every time Killian repeats it. He finally rises from his seat when Liam unquestionably yells in his ear, Killian having to actually pull the phone away with a displeased face.

"Liam- " Killian tries. _Seriously Killian, what the fuck_ , Emma hears.

"Liam- " a second time. _I cannot believe you-_

 _"Liam- "_ Killian hisses into his phone, marching out of the kitchen, well away from everyone else's earshot.

"His brother doesn't sound too worried by all this, I think." Regina's tone drips with sarcasm.

Emma fails to hide the smirk at that comment.

"So listen," David starts, stretching his hand across the table to get Emma's attention. "I…was wrong for suggesting you break things off with him. I hadn't realized you were…" he pauses and looks away. "I didn't know."

"David, I don't think anyone in this room knew until an hour ago." Mary Margaret rests her chin on her wrist and waggles her eyebrows at Emma.

"Come on guys, give her a break. The lump of coal in her chest needed time to get things up and running again." Regina comes to her defense in the only way she knows how.

Emma spreads her arms on the table. "Really? I mean, really?"

Killian walks back in at that moment, making all four of them shut up and look at him expectantly.

"Liam is…on his way," he looks apologetic, rubbing the back of his neck. "I told him he didn't have to, that I was _fine_ , but he insisted."

"Well, I can't wait. I bet the first thing he says when he walks through the door is 'Where is he? I'm going to kill that son of a bitch.'"

Emma widens her eyes at Regina but immediately turns her head at the sound of Killian's laugh.

"I don't think he'd be that crass. Maybe something like, 'What have you gotten yourself into?'" Mary Margaret suggests.

"No, he's not going to tell his brother off right away. He'd start with, 'When I get my hands on him, he's a dead man.' And _then_ get to the big brother scolding." David crosses his arms over his chest, pleased with his prediction.

Emma's disbelief at her friends' blatant mocking of Liam is mostly overcome by Killian's reaction to it.

"That," he points at David. "I'd put my money on that."

—-

"When I get my hands on the bastard…" Liam seethes, kicking at the pieces of glass scattered on Killian's living room floor.

"What?" David asks. "He's going to be what?"

Mary Margaret elbows him in the gut and Emma sees Killian bite his lips to keep from smiling.

"He's a Light Angel, not much you can do to him." Regina casually comments, prompting a glare from Liam and a _Not helping_ from Emma.

"Tell me again." Liam rubs his temples, as if holding off the beginning of a migraine.

Emma sighs and prepares to explain the situation for a third time. She tells everyone about how she and her friends have been on the run from Gold for years. That they move around from place to place whenever they feel he's closing in on them. That they've only been able to stay put for this long this time because they very nearly killed him the last time they crossed paths ( _Why didn't you then?_ Liam had said irritably the first time she mentioned it. Killian did not approve.) That she even let herself believe that maybe he's given up, that she wasn't worth all the trouble.

But revenge is a powerful motivator that can't be stifled by a mere near-death experience.

"And now he's abandoned the whole opening-the-Gates plan just to kill you?" there's still a hint of disbelief in Liam's tone, even after all the times they've tried to convince him that one man's goal in life can in fact be that single-minded.

"Or he might just be putting it off to prioritize…" David trails off when Emma gives him a withering look. "…something else." he finishes.

"Honestly, it doesn't matter," Liam waves his hand around, dismissing other answers to his question. "Arthur is still dead set on going back and he's not going to delay that for someone else's personal vendetta."

"But Gold is more urgent, he will come back and he will be more prepared." Killian reasons, the worry already seeping into his voice.

Liam glances at his brother and pinches the bridge of his nose when Killian narrows his eyes at him. "Merlin said they might already be getting ready to storm the Gates."

 _"What?"_ several different voices utter in unison.

"Actually, I heard the same thing," Regina says cautiously, a guilty look on her face. "They're doing it soon."

"Why didn't you tell us?" Mary Margaret gives her a disappointed look.

"I'm sorry, I thought there were other more important news to deliver." Regina gestures openly at Killian, who looks taken aback at the suggestion that _he's_ the more critical piece of information.

"And I thought you were already dealing with your own end-of-the-world issues to have to learn that the world is, quite literally, about to end." Liam tells his brother before he's even asked, jerking his head in Emma's direction.

Emma would laugh at how Killian bristles at that if she didn't feel so small all of a sudden with the gravity of what's about to happen.

"Okay," David stops whatever smartass reply was going to come from someone in the group with an authoritative voice. "So we need to take Emma somewhere safe, stop Gold from killing her and possibly eliminate any other chance he might have at doing that, get reinforcements, get to the Gates before Arthur and his followers blow everything to shit, and save humankind. Right?"

"Oh is that all?" Regina puts her hands on her hips.

"Not necessarily in that order, right?"

 _"Liam,"_ Killian says, exasperated. "We're doing all of it. All of us."

Liam gets serious. "Then we need a plan. That's too many things to do in very little time."

"You stay in the clinic," David tells Liam. "You're going to be needed there. Warn as many people as you can, we'd need all the help we can get. There's got to be more of us out there wanting to put a stop to this thing."

"Alright. You're coming with me." Liam motions at Killian.

"No, I'm not." Killian shakes his head, not moving from where he's standing.

Liam clenches his jaw. "What, why not?"

"I'm Light, he can't hurt me. I can protect her from him."

Liam approaches his brother as if coming closer would change his mind. "But that's about all you can do. You can't hurt him either, especially not with that." he points at Killian's banged up wrist.

"And it doesn't make sense for you two to stay together." David adds, not exactly supporting Liam's argument but not approving of Killian's plan either.

Now it's Emma's turn to ask, "What, why not?"

David looks at her incredulously. "Have you not been paying attention? Gold knows about you. He knows who Killian is to you and believe me, he's going to use that against you. You don't have to make it easier for him to do just that."

Emma and Killian look at each other, seeing David's point.

"Then it's settled, you're with me." Liam claps his brother on the shoulder.

"But we need to get Emma some place safe." Killian insists.

"About that," Emma chimes in. "That's exactly what he wants - to catch me isolated and hidden from other Angels. Maybe the best place for me is out there with everyone else, with people who can help if I need it."

No one objects to Emma's suggestion.

"And none of you are coming with me," Emma adds quickly. "For the same reason he can't." she jerks her thumb toward Killian.

"Fine, then take this," David puts his gun in Emma's hand and looks her in the eye. "He's taken too much from all of us. We end it, we end it today."

Emma feels the weight of the gun in her palm, the coolness of the metal bleeding into her skin. She nods firmly once before David lets go.

"The rest of us will go the closest Gate, keep that damn thing locked down."

They all look at each other one more time, waiting for anyone else to voice out any kind of violent reaction against what they are all planning to do. When no one does, they all go their separate ways to take their place in the inevitable war.

—-

Emma travels to the clinic with the brothers despite the expected objection from the rest of the group - she doesn't want to leave his side until she absolutely has to. The short drive is quiet with Emma sitting in the back of Liam's jeep, choosing to distract herself by staring at Killian's profile. When they arrive and walk through the doors, Liam throws them a knowing glance over his shoulder and stalks away. Killian leads them to the back room, where they've spent the last five minutes in even more silence.

She leans heavily against the door, the weight of the world seemingly resting on her shoulders. She reckons everyone else is feeling the same way, a dark cloud of foreboding casting its shadow over them. She watches Killian push off the table across the room and walk the short distance between them, stopping right in front of her, an arm's length away. She sees his left wrist is without its splint and is still swollen. She wonders how much it hurts.

"You'll keep safe, won't you?" he says quietly, not quite meeting her eyes.

"You know I will," Emma replies, her fingers drumming a random pattern against the wooden door. "I'm more worried about you. You'll know when enough is enough, right?"

Killian chuckles low and looks at her restless fingers tapping wildly behind her. He takes each hand in his own and raises them, spreading them open so their palms are touching. He laces their fingers together and rests his forehead on hers. He waits until Emma nods.

She feels the tension in her shoulders ease, the anxiety in her body all pooling to her hands where it leaves through her fingertips. She feels a calmness envelop her, like a pair of strong arms surrounding her in a warm embrace. She smiles at the feeling, at the powerful sense of security, that there's someone there to protect her, that she's not alone.

She brings one of their linked hands close to her chest, the other to touch against her lips. She looks at his face, memorizes the shape of his nose, the dip of his dimple, the faint scar on his cheek, the striking color of his eyes. She moves their hands down just underneath her chin. "Why do I feel like I'm sending you off to war?"

Killian laughs softly again, squeezing her hands a little harder. "Because that's exactly what's happening. I feel like I'm letting you go into battle myself."

They stand like that for a while, just breathing in each other's space. Emma doesn't want to let go, knowing that as soon as she does, reality will descend upon them, reminding them of just how the world as they know it is teetering on the brink of extinction.

She's still the first to move, unlacing their fingers carefully. "I'm going out there knowing I can protect myself." she pries herself from Killian's intense gaze and walks toward the desk he was just leaning against.

He follows her without question but immediately frowns when she pulls the drawer open.

"I'd feel a lot better knowing you can do the same." she wills him to take the gun sitting there, the silver glinting from this angle.

Killian casts her a reproachful glance. "Where did you even get this?"

"I asked one of your people to leave it here," she blows past the explanation. "Please, you need this. It's gotten a lot more dangerous out there. Especially for you."

He shakes his head forcefully. "It's not going to work on him, you know that."

"I wouldn't put it past him to send someone after you who _can_ hurt you and this _will_ work on them." Emma reasons, reaching for his hand to take the gun.

He moves his hand out of reach and backs away. "Emma. You have your own way of dealing with things and I respect that. I am asking you to give me the same courtesy."

She locks eyes with him, his fierce will manifesting in the way he's staring back. She tightens her hold on the drawer knob but eventually lets her hand drop to her side. She takes a deep, shaky breath and ducks her head. She blinks away the tears that have started to well in her eyes.

"Don't blame me if you do end up staring down the barrel of a gun. I tried to warn you." she says angrily to the floor.

Killian closes the drawer slowly, gun untouched inside. He puts his hands on her shoulders then wraps them around her, giving her a tight embrace, a real one this time.

Emma doesn't know where it comes from, she doesn't even notice it until it the painful knot that formed in her chest escapes her throat in the form of a sob. She clings to Killian's jacket with both hands and cries against him, his shirt soaking up the tears that fall from her eyes.

The fear threatens to choke her, to leave her gasping for air, but it doesn't recede. It just sits heavily in her lungs, taking up half the room, making it difficult to breathe. She focuses on Killian's hands rubbing circles in her back, on the steady beating of his heart right up against her ear. She clamps down on the terror on her own, pushes back against it through sheer force of will.

Her breathing slows down, allowing her to catch her breath. "Please don't die." _Please don't leave me._

Killian tightens his hold on her. "No one's dying, love."

She loosens her death grip on his coat and puts her hands on his shirt. She runs them over his chest and around his back, hugging him underneath the jacket. She tells herself to believe in his words, even though she's heard him say them before, and they weren't always true.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter! Thanks for reading! Enjoy!

Emma ascends the stairs two steps at a time, her thighs already burning with the effort. When she gets to the top, she's met with three different weapons aimed at her.

"Jesus, Emma, what the fuck." David breathes, lowering his gun in relief.

"It's chaos down there." Emma pants, doubling over and putting her hands on her knees.

Mary Margaret looks out into the street below through the clock on the tower. "We know."

Regina follows a group of humans with her eyes, all laughing heartily as they walk past a bleeding Angel. "And they don't even know it's happening."

"What are you doing here, I thought we agreed you should be far away." David asks with genuine concern in his voice.

"Making a plan is one thing," Emma tries to catch her breath before she continues. "Sticking to it is a whole other story."

"Tell me about it," Regina says from the window. "The British brothers are here."

Emma's head snaps up. _"What?"_ she rushes to the window to see it with her own eyes. And true enough, Liam and Killian are there, tending to the injured in the street.

"He probably didn't think you'd be here too. But then again, why would he?" Regina cocks her head at Emma.

Emma forces herself to look away from the window and throws Regina an angry glare instead. "If you must know, I ran ahead to warn you. They're not going to be able to hold them off for long. Arthur is too determined to get here."

"We're the last line of defense, we'll do whatever it takes to stop him." David checks his gun, pulling the magazine out and slamming it back in.

Mary Margaret approaches him tentatively. "Honey, you're not going to- "

"Whatever it takes."

Mary Margaret looks offended as David walks toward the staircase, peering down, both hands on the gun.

Emma looks from David to Mary Margaret to Regina, then shakes her head, refusing to accept the fact that there is only one way this could end. Her thoughts drift back to her last moment with Killian, when he rejected the idea of arming himself, even for protection. "No, we're not doing that."

David turns his head away from the staircase to look at her. "We're not doing what?"

"We are not going to kill him. Or anyone."

David draws his brows together but keeps his gun trained on the landing. "I'm just being realistic. If he's fought all the way up here, there's very little else we could do to stop him from wiping this whole place from existence," He looks back to where his gun is pointed. "But hey, I'm open to other suggestions."

"We could talk to them." Emma answers simply.

That made him abandon his stance and drop his hands to his sides. _"Are you serious?"_ he looks at her as if she just grew another head.

"You're thinking short-term David. Do you really think it'd be just him who storms up here - just Light Angels?" Emma patiently explains. It's so clear to her what needs to happen in order for them to have a better chance of coming out of this alive. So she can make it back to that damn Angel who's also stubbornly out in the street just below them.

"You can't plan to kill one person and expect the rest of them to just put their weapons down and surrender. If you plan to kill, you had better be ready to eliminate every single one of them and I know you don't have enough bullets for that. You don't even have one for a Dark Angel."

David doesn't scoff at her, which Emma thinks is a good sign.

"I don't have to kill all of them - just enough so they don't have the power to open the Gates. They need all twelve open at the same time and it takes seven Angels to open each one. One less will stop everything."

"Then what? Do you really think you can walk out of here alive?" Emma challenges.

"Maybe I won't but the rest of the world will."

Emma walks over to him, passing an already teary Mary Margaret. "But you're important too," she tells him. "You can't come into battle believing you're going to die." She cocks her head toward Mary Margaret. "You have to have something to fight for, to _live_ for."

The sounds from below become louder with each passing second. David stares at Emma long and hard before he finally loosens the grip on his gun. "I've never heard you talk like that before."

Emma smiles at him. "See, words are more powerful than you think. And it will do more to actually stop this right here and now than just delaying it until they replace those they've lost."

Footsteps start to reverberate up the staircase like a roll of thunder coming closer and closer.

"You're sure about this?" he asks one last time.

Emma nods, not an ounce of doubt in her mind. "Yes."

David walks over to Mary Margaret and wraps his arms around her. There are tears running down her face but her wide grin is what Emma holds onto when she faces the new presence in the room.

Arthur holds his gun up and aims it squarely at Emma's chest. "Swan, right?" he asks the one immediately behind him who Emma instantly recognizes as Greg. "Yeah, I should have known who you were. Maybe Gold wouldn't be distracted now had he taken care of you earlier."

Emma lets him talk while she takes stock of his group. It's a proper mix of Light and Dark, but a stark imbalance in terms of body language. Most of them have an exhausted look in their eyes, as if just waiting for this whole ordeal to be over. Only Arthur and Greg still have that fierce determination evident on their faces.

She looks at Arthur when she says, "What do you want?"

He looks surprised at the question then laughs. "What do you think I want? Why do you think we're all standing here? _To open the bloody Gates._ "

"Yes, but what for? _What do you want?_ " Emma repeats.

A couple of his lackeys in the back look at each other like they're asking themselves that very question for the first time.

Arthur is seemingly unnerved by the specificity Emma prompts from him. He changes his hold on the gun and Emma feels David fidget behind her. "I want to go back. I'm sick of this place and I want to go back."

"Back to Heaven? Is that it? Back to where you lived the same life but without the threat of death looming over you?" Emma tries to understand his answer, tries to make _him_ understand. "Is that what you want?"

He takes a step toward Emma but she doesn't flinch. "What is with the twenty questions? Just shut up and move."

"If you want me to move, there's an easy way to do that," she motions with her head to the gun in his hand. 

 _"Emma."_ David warns her in a low voice.

She ignores him. "I think I know what you want."

"Oh you do now, do you?" Arthur narrows his eyes at her.

"You don't want to go back. You," she talks over him when he attempts to correct her. "Want to go home."

Arthur blinks, his mouth still half open from his aborted interruption. Greg glances nervously at him, like he can feel Arthur's resolve starting to waver at the mere mention of the word _home_.

"But see, there's a difference between Heaven and home. It might be a new concept to you Light Angels because it's not the reason you left in the first place. You, I'm guessing, came down out of a sense of duty. But we," she gestures to her friends behind her. "We chose this place because Heaven wasn't home for us. It didn't give us that feeling of comfort at the end of a particularly shitty day. It wasn't a place for us to curl up into a ball and feel properly sad. It didn't give us that sense of freedom, of having the liberty to do what you want to do without fear or shame."

Arthur still doesn't say anything so Emma continues.

"I understand you miss it, that there are probably people up there you would give anything to see again. But it only feels like a greater loss if you keep thinking you've lost everything. If you think you lost a beautiful place but ignore the majesty of Creation. If you think you lost your family and friends and refuse to make new ones with those living here. If you think you lost eternity but pay little attention to how death makes everything more exquisite, more stunning, simply because it's fleeting."

Arthur's hold on his gun falters. She almost misses the tremble in his fingers. Greg is the only other Angel with his weapon at the ready.

"This can be home too if you let it. It already is for many of us. And this, what you're planning to do, will take that away from us, and not by our choice but by yours."

Arthur keeps his eyes and his gun on her. Emma could already see the indecision on his face, in the way he shifts his feet. He tightens his hold on the gun like he's convincing himself to _just pull the trigger._ Emma holds her breath until Arthur finally, finally lowers his gun as though it's a heavy weight pulling his arm down.

 _"Holy shit."_ she hears Regina mumble from behind her, stealing her exact words from her mouth.

No one speaks for a full minute, mostly in disbelief at what just happened. Even Emma couldn't quite wrap her head around the fact that her mostly suicidal plan worked.

Then as if on cue, the clock chimes on the hour, sending an ear-splitting toll across the room. Emma brings her hands to her ears and doesn't see Greg move until he slams right into her. She hears Mary Margaret scream her name before the sound of breaking glass, the feeling of falling coming soon after.

—-

Emma barely had time to spread her wings and avoid getting her skull crushed on the pavement. Greg unfurls his too and it messes with her flight, making it more dangerous to stay in the air. She wrestles to escape from his hold but he claws at her arms and neck, refusing to let go. Emma looks ahead at the narrow alley in the distance and she puts all her strength into twisting them around. She pushes at Greg's shoulders, putting as much space between them as she can. She retracts her arms in the last second before he crashes into a building’s fire exit, finally releasing his hold on her.

She doesn't have time or space to correct her landing and she hits the ground hard, rolling a few times until she stops on her back, every bone in her body aching. She painfully flips over to her belly and looks back to where Greg fell. She swears when she sees him emerge from behind the dumpster, bloody and limping but very much mobile. She scrambles to her feet and pulls out her gun, which miraculously did not fall off despite their violent altercation in the air.

But before she could pull the trigger, the tip of a blade comes out in the middle of Greg's chest, a red stain growing quickly around it. Emma's eyes widen as Greg chokes on his own blood, almost forgets how to breathe when he falls to the ground to reveal Gold, a sinister smile on his face. The long dagger in his hand has the handle of his cane, the rest of it in his other hand, a weapon on its own.

He vanishes and before she can even attempt to fly away, she feels a hard strike on the side of her head and falls back to the ground.

Emma blinks furiously in an attempt to keep her vision from swimming. She can feel a thin line of blood drip from her forehead and she's pretty sure she's bruised a couple of ribs from her fall. She moves slowly to her hands and knees, her world still tilting back and forth. She'd search for her gun that clattered out of her hand if her head would just stop spinning for two seconds.

"Emma Swan," a shadow looms over her. "The time for games is over, dearie."

She lifts her eyes to find a blur of silver zoom just above her head before a white hot pain steals what breath she has left in her lungs. She screams and reaches blindly behind her shoulder, burning her hand when she touches the hilt of the blade currently pinning her wings to the wall. She lets go immediately, the smell of burnt flesh and blood already present in the air.

Gold crouches before her, teeth bared. "It's time you and I finally have a chat." he spits the last word out with cutting derision.

Emma grunts in response. She fights to keep her eyes open - she will not give him the satisfaction of knocking her unconscious.

"You have denied me this moment for years, so I am going to take my time if you don't mind." he whispers, the tone of his voice sending a chill down her spine.

"Do your worst." she hisses, the taste of copper strong in her mouth.

"And to think that I almost gave up and sought to open the Gates instead," Gold laughs, shaking his head. "Life is funny like that, isn't it? You spend so much time looking for something but once you stop, that's when it shows itself, taunting you for all the effort you wasted."

Emma would roll her eyes but she chooses to channel her fading energy into shifting her body to relieve some of the pressure from her wings.

"But now that we're here, let's not lose sight of what brought us to this moment, together," Gold holds her chin up so they can look at each other and when Emma tries to jerk her head away, he grips her jaw forcefully. "You took Neal from me and there is no forgiveness for that."

"I didn't take him from you, _you_ killed _him_." she struggles to say, barely able to open her mouth to speak.

"Because he was protecting _you_. That bullet was meant for _you_. He was never supposed to be down here, neither of us were," his face inches closer and closer that Emma can practically feel his words on her skin. "But he followed you. He followed you to this pitiful, miserable, pathetic place for what. For an ordinary life and a disgraceful death. He deserved more. He deserved better."

She can feel his fingers digging in, clutching her hard enough to bruise. Her addled brain unhelpfully reminds her whose touch is the exact opposite of this harsh and merciless hold.

"Emma!"

Emma's heart hammers loudly in her chest at Killian's voice, unsure if she's imagined it. Her eyes flick over to where another _Emma!_ reverberates. Gold turns his head in the same direction then faces her again, narrowing his eyes. Then he disappears right in front of her.

She sees Killian run past then double back, skidding into the alley. He almost stumbles in his hurry to get to her, sprinting from the other end of the street.

"He's here!" Emma yells desperately, warning Killian of the invisible danger.

He doesn't slow down, Emma's not sure he even heard what she said. He drops to his knees on the cold ground and immediately puts his hand on Emma's neck just below her jaw.

The relief is instant. Her pain diminishes to a dull ache and the terror that was smothering her is leaving her body in waves. She gives in to the sensation, leaning her cheek against his palm and putting her hand over his. She catches her breath and closes her eyes, reveling in the soothing heat radiating from his fingers.

Then she snaps back to reality, the harsh brightness of the lamp at the corner of the street burning her eyes when she opens them in haste. She squints, moving her head to look at Killian's hazy form.

"It's alright, love."

"He's here." Emma tries again. She tightens her hold on Killian's hand and tugs, attempting to pry his fingers from her face.

He doesn't let her, just keeps his hold and even brushes his thumb softly over her cheeks.

She sees him grip the blade handle with his other hand and Emma braces herself for the pain that's about to come. Only it never did, not even when Killian starts to jostle the knife to get her free.

"He's here." Emma repeats a third time because it's clear he's not listening to her.

"I know, that’s why I asked your friends to stay back," he stops what he’s doing to look her in the eye. "He can't hurt me. And I'm not going to let him hurt you."

"What's that now?" Gold reappears a few feet from them, making Killian whip around.

Killian turns to face him and stands in front of Emma. "You're not going to hurt her."

"No, the other part. About _me_ ," Gold puts his hands on his chest. "Not being able to hurt _you_." he points a finger at Killian.

"Your weapons won't work on me." Killian says, hands curling into fists.

"Oh I don't need weapons to make you hurt, dearie," Gold taunts. He holds up his right hand. "This will be enough, I assure you."

Emma struggles to keep herself upright, the pain coming back in a rush. If her wings weren't pinned to the wall, she would have slid to the floor already.

"You know what the most difficult thing was in starting this uprising?" Gold asks out loud, balling his raised hand into a fist. "Getting the people to understand what it's for and why we're doing it. Some of them just want a battle, a reason to inflict violence, an excuse to draw the blood of their fellow Angels. Most just want to go back, those who regretted ever coming down here regardless of why they did it in the first place."

Killian takes a step back closer to her, not taking his eyes off Gold.

"But very few comprehend the real purpose of this insurgence: we have forgotten. We have forgotten our true place in this universe. We have spent too much time with these _humans_ that we have started to believe we are one of them but we are not,"

"We are _Angels_. We are not equal with these creatures, we never were. We are superior beings forced to stoop to the level of mortals. And it is the most insulting thing to even walk the same ground they tread on."

Emma can hear the hate in Gold's voice, the absolute loathing in every word. It makes her shiver.

Gold starts to stalk toward them. "No one else shares my sentiments, not exactly. No other Angel truly understands. But you," he locks eyes with Killian. "You are probably the only one left who can.”

Then Gold vanishes mid-stride.

Emma's stomach drops at the realization of what's about to happen. _"Killian."_

Killian steps closer to Emma still, keeping his eyes alert.

"Killian, you need to _go_." Emma pleads, pushing at Killian's legs.

"I am not leaving you here." he scans the area one more time before he turns quickly and moves for the blade stubbornly stuck in the wall.

His fingers barely touch the hilt, having been tackled to the ground hard. He slides a few feet on the wet pavement, ending up on his back and looking winded. No one else is in the alley - not that Emma can see anyway.

She scrambles to her feet and is painfully reminded she can't move when she gets pulled back down to her butt. She twists around, grips the knife handle and pulls, ignoring the agonizing burn on her hand.

She turns her head to see Gold reappear, planting a firm knee on Killian's chest and raising his right hand. Killian struggles to get up from under the pressure pushing him into the ground. He looks lightheaded, blinking furiously at the Angel holding him down.

"Killian!" Emma wraps her other hand around the hilt and tugs, the blade slowly detaching from its crevice.

She whips around again and watches helplessly as Gold wraps his fingers around Killian's throat. Killian's back arches against the weight as he takes a lungful of breath, his eyes squeezing shut. He opens his mouth in a silent scream, his left hand clutching Gold's forearm and the other pushing uselessly against his chest. Gold bears down on him, forcing his back flat on the ground. He presses his other palm against Killian's cheek and pushes his face against the floor.

"Can you feel it?" Gold says through gritted teeth.

Emma hears Killian finally cry out and she heaves at the knife with everything she has left. It comes loose without warning, making Emma fall backward on her elbows. She lets the blade clatter away and clambers to her feet unsteadily. She wills her exhausted legs to run then collides with Gold, toppling him off of Killian.

She uses her hands to break her fall, only narrowly avoiding hitting her chin on the pavement. She quickly flips on her back and finds Killian, who is trembling violently and struggling to push himself up from the cold floor. She sits up with tremendous effort, every part of her body screaming in pain. She finds Gold marching over to her in wide strides, having picked up something from the ground further away. The dagger glints in his hand as he approaches her menacingly. 

Emma tries to inch backward but Gold is fast despite his limp and is on top of her in seconds.

"This ends tonight Miss Swan."

Emma closes her eyes and waits for the blade to sink in her chest.

The sound of a gunshot confuses her and she opens her eyes in time to see the look of utter shock on Gold's face before he crumples to the ground. Emma props herself on her elbows and sees Killian sitting up, looking dangerously close to collapsing himself. He’s still holding her gun with a shaking hand, aiming it at the space above her.

She pushes Gold's unconscious body off of her and staggers toward Killian. She drops heavily on her knees in front of him. There’s smoke coming from where his skin meets the metal of the gun, the blackness of which is a stark contrast to his knuckles having turned white from how tightly he's grasping the weapon. Emma holds the barrel of the gun and pushes it down, using her other hand to pry his fingers from the grip. He is staring vacantly at the blood slowly pooling around Gold. 

She drops the gun to the floor as soon as he lets go, her hands going up to cup his face. She doesn't feel different at all. She moves his head to make him look at her, his unfocused eyes barely able to keep eye contact.

"Let me in," she tells him. "Let me help you."

Killian shakes his head once that it looks like an involuntary jerk.

"Killian, please, let me in." she brings their foreheads together. 

He holds his ground for a few more seconds before his shoulders drop and he releases the breath he's been holding. Emma inhales sharply as she gets hit by a swell of intense hate, an overwhelming urge to march back into the clocktower and open the Gate herself. She tightens her hold on Killian to keep herself from walking off and doing just that. 

Emma kisses Killian then, tries to remember what it feels like when he smiles at her, the kind that reaches his blue, blue eyes. What it feels like when he wraps her in his arms, enveloping her in his warmth. What it feels like when he listens to her talk, like she's the most interesting person in the world. What it feels like when he looks at her with such deep affection that her heart just about bursts in her chest. 

The ugly feeling of animosity fades into the recesses of her mind when Killian kisses her back desperately. He tugs at her, pulling her close. He opens his mouth and Emma is all too willing to glide her tongue against his. She wraps her arms around his neck, eliminating whatever space remained between them. He keeps a hand at the small of her back and the other between her shoulder blades. He runs his tongue along her bottom lip, and tugs on it softly with his teeth.

She's breathless when they part, barely an inch between their lips. He brushes the tip of his nose against her cheek then her ear, before burying his face at the crook of her neck. She sits back on her heels, holding his head where it is. They cling to each other like that for a while, his breath ghosting over her collarbone.

The hate that almost suffocated her minutes ago lingers feebly in her chest along with the agony in her wings, the pain above her eye, and the ache in the rest of her body. She feels the burn in her hand where it's resting on the back of Killian's neck. They all melt away into a muted buzzing, drowned by the sound of his deep breathing and the electric thrum of his touch.

"Thank you." he whispers in a weak voice.

She shakes her head and runs a hand down his arm to lace their fingers together. She lets him know how much she's grateful for him for saving her life - and she doesn't just mean tonight. All this time she's been getting by with her will to live. Killian gave her a _reason_ to live. 

She may be sitting in the middle of a dank alleyway battered and bruised, but she feels whole, she feels complete.

—-

The sun sits proudly on its perch in a clear sky, the only spot of contrast in a vast sea of blue. Emma tilts her face toward it and closes her eyes, enjoying the way the rays feel on her cheeks. A slight breeze blows past, sweeping some of her hair in her face but she makes no move to tuck it back behind her ears.

"…And I thought, I should knock his teeth out." Henry continues his story, a little rage behind his voice.

"Did you?" Killian asks from his seat on the park bench beside her.

"Punch him? No. But I really, really wanted to." Henry draws the second _really_ out.

They both decided not to tell Henry about the almost-rapture, instead using the clinic as an excuse for not visiting for almost a month. The only remnant of their secret battle being Killian's wrist, now in a cast at Liam's insistence. Emma found it hilarious that the first injury he had is also the last to heal - and he didn't even get it the night Emma earned all of hers.

Henry narrowed his eyes at him when Killian explained he had hurt it by breaking a fall. It's almost too ridiculous, relative to everything that's happened since then, that it's the truth.

"Hmm. You should have."

Emma opens her eyes at that to cast Killian a disapproving look.

"Anyone who hurts a defenseless little animal deserves a sock on the mouth. Or two." Killian does not even attempt to backpedal on what he said.

"You did the right thing Henry, hitting him wouldn't have solved anything." Emma quickly interjects.

"Yeah but that's not the end of the story," Henry raises his hands over his head. "Granny comes out with her broom and starts whacking him on the head with it until he runs away." he swings his arms in the air to show them just how the older woman chased the cruel teenager away.

"See, Granny gets it." Killian has a smug smile on his face.

"I thought you didn't tolerate any kind of violence against other people." Emma raises an eyebrow at him.

"Puppy kickers are an exception to that rule," he answers, putting a finger up. Then he brings that finger down to point at the furiously wagging tail by Henry's shoes. "I think he's getting restless."

Emma and Henry turn to look at the dog staring up at them with big brown eyes. He jumps and barks once, scampers a few feet, then turns back to look at them expectantly.

Henry tilts his head at Emma and Killian sitting on the bench. "And you already struggle to keep up with me." Then he takes off after his recently acquired pet.

Emma hangs her head and apologizes in advance to her already complaining legs.

Killian gets to his feet and offers her a hand. "Come on, love. Before we lose them in this massive place."

She looks at his hand and takes it reluctantly, letting him pull her up. He brings her close to his side and wraps his arm around her. She drags hers across his back to the other side and hooks her finger in one of his belt loops. They walk together in each other's embrace after Henry and his dog.

Emma touches his hand, the one draped over her shoulders. She feels Killian's head shift to look at her but she just leans into him, squeezing herself closer.

She thinks about how she's right where she needs to be, how she wouldn't want to be anywhere else. When Killian gives her a soft kiss on the forehead, she lets him feel the genuine happiness that has been quietly settling in her skin, deep in her bones. When she feels him smile against her hair, she lets him know that he's responsible for that feeling.

She tells him how much she loves him. She tells him without saying a word.

_The End._

__


End file.
